


Thicker Than Water

by That1BadassBitch



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gratuitous Vulgar Language, Injuries both Major and Minor, Multi, Notable changes to Canon, Probably wrong legal procedures, Violence, angsty teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That1BadassBitch/pseuds/That1BadassBitch
Summary: "My name is Angelica Lee Andrews. You probably don't know me, and if you do, it's probably as either 'Grease Monkey' or 'Mikaela's cousin.' When I was ten, My Dad was granted full custody of me and took me to Nevada, where I recently discovered... exactly who I'm meant to be."Yet another self-insert fic. Posted here as well as on Fanfiction.net





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews/comments are appreciated because like most writers I am a review whore. Constructive criticism is appreciated, rude critiques and hate less so. I'm also fond of keysmash and "OOOOOHHH MYYY GAAAAAAWWWWD" s. This story is complete (in a sense because I found a good point to stop but I want to continue through the series) but still undergoing edits and tweaks to make everything better. If you notice any discrepancies, please let me know so I can fix them up.

**"My name is Angelica Lee Andrews. You probably don't know me, and if you do, it's probably as either 'Grease Monkey' or 'Mikaela's cousin.' When I was ten, My Dad was granted full custody of me and took me to Nevada, where I recently discovered... exactly who I'm meant to be."**

~oOo~

_"I'll be home in a few weeks, baby. I promise."_

_"I know."_

_"I love you. I love you, and I love our kids, and I love the life we have. You know I wouldn't be out here if I didn't have to be."_

_"Yes, I know."_

_"Mama, I wanna talk to daddy!"_

_The woman smiled and pet her daughter's hair. The thick brown strands fell in choppy waves around her face, like they always did. She gave a whine when her mother didn't reply, scrunching up her tiny nose and clinging to her leg. "Alright, alright. Your youngest monster would like a word with you."_

_"Alright, put her on." A man's voice chuckled over the phone._

_The little girl bounced excitedly and took the receiver from her mother, holding it beside her ear as she grinned. "Hi daddy!"_

_"Hey there, my little Angel! How are you baby girl?"_

_"I'm doing really good! I'm getting really good grades, and Mr. Ricky lets me help out around the shop, and he's gonna keep teaching me stuffs until you get back! I'mma be just as smart as you are, daddy!" She chirped in glee._

_"Well, I'm glad that lazy punk is doing something right. How's your brother doing?"_

_"He's being a butt!"_

_"Oh really?"_

_"Yeah-huh! He gets a girly-friend now and he thinks he's too cool to play Dinosaurs with me! And I'm not allowed to borrow his cars anymore, either!"_

_"Aw, who needs his cars anyway? He didn't get a biker helmet, did he?"_

_"Nope! I Gots it though!" She giggled for a moment, then quietly added, "I miss you daddy."_

_"I miss you too, Angel. I'm coming home soon, though. And I got you all something from down here in Alabama. I'll be there before you know it."_

_"Okay daddy." She gave a little sigh. "I love you, Daddy. Come home safe, okay?"_

_"I will baby. I love you too. Can you give the phone back to Mommy now?"_

_"Okay." She returned the phone to her mother's hand and went back to the living room down the hall. Said mother spoke to her almost-husband for a few minutes longer before finally hanging up. Not ten minutes later, her cell bleeped. She glanced at the text message, bit her lip, looked down the hall towards her kids, then sent back a quick reply._

_A few minutes and a wardrobe change later, she clipped her earrings into place and paused in the living room doorway. "I'm going out for a while. I'll be home late. Jason, make sure Angelica is in bed by ten, hair combed, teeth brushed. Don't stay up all night."_

_"Sure thing, Mom."_

~oOo~

_The doorbell gave a friendly chime as the button was depressed. There was a small clatter and a few thumps, then the lock clicked and the door swung open to expose a young girl. Her light brown eyes sparkled at the sight of the visitor, and she squealed. "Daddy! You're home!"_

_The man caught her flying tackle, lifting her up in the air and spinning her in a quick circle. "Well Hey there, Angel! It's so good to see you again!" He pulled her close as she giggled and rubbed her cheek against his scruffy beard. After a long moment, he shifted her to his hip, adjusting his duffel on his shoulder and walking inside. "Where's Momma?"_

_"She left a while ago. She said she'd be back late," She informed his shoulder and neck._

_He carried her to the living room and released her on the couch beside her elder brother. He stood quickly to embrace his father, only a few inches shorter. "Well then, we'll wait for her together. I got you some things."_

_He quieted the over excited child and swung his duffle to the floor and undid the zipper, exaggerating his search for the girls favor before producing a small package wrapped in brown paper, which he handed to his daughter, then shoebox sized present for his son. After a moment of anticipation, he let them tear in._

_The girl's jaw dropped when she got her bundle open, eyes widening to stare more effectively. Amidst the torn wrappings lay a silver tin, a small replica of a bright orange General Lee, and a framed picture of Uncle Jesse, Bo, Luke and Daisy Duke posed in front of the real thing, black sharpie scrawled over the bottom reading "_ To My Biggest Fan, Angel. Hope I see you at the rodeo! -Bo Duke."  _Jason gave a half laugh of amazement, looking over his sister's gifts before scanning over his own as well._

_"I remember you were getting pretty into rodeos and stuff. I figured every good cowboy needs three things- A good pair of boots, a hat, and a bit of skill in the saddle."_

_Jason held the flier for a riding camp with a surprised smile on his face. "Thanks, dad."_

_Three hours later, after watching the Dukes of Hazard for what must have been the millionth time, snacking on the southern goodies brought home, when Angelica had fallen asleep on her father's lap and Jason had gone to bed, Jackson Andrews stood in the kitchen, watching through the window as his almost fiancé kissed another man goodnight, waving as he backed out the drive and hurrying inside, quietly opening and shutting the door only to turn and find herself face to face with him._

_"Jackson, I-"_

_"Don't." He pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket, holding it out for a moment before returning it to its shelter. "I won't need this after all." He looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Diane. But I'm afraid that tomorrow, you will be explaining to our children why their father is leaving."_

_"You can't do that to them! Jack, you know they-"_

_"I will see you in court to settle custody. And tomorrow, after you explain, I am taking my daughter with me."_

_Without another word, he walked down the hall to Angel's room to put her to bed._

~oOo~

_"I hereby grant custody of Angelica Lee Andrews to her father, Jackson Lee Andrews. By his own volition, Jason Michael Andrews will stay with his mother, Diane Marie Fowler. Case dismissed."_

_Diane's face was nothing short of shell-shocked, watching her daughter, dolled up in a dress borrowed from her cousin, Mikaela, looking incredibly relieved as she moved from her seat between her mother and the attorney and almost tackled her father._

_Angel nuzzled her father's neck, picking at her borrowed red velvet dress. "I'm itchy."_

_"I know you are, baby. We'll head back to the truck and you can change back to your Levi's, okay?"_

_"Okay." Added on as an afterthought, she asked quietly, "Where are we gonna go now, daddy?"_

_"Your Uncle Mike and cousin Mikaela are going to let us stay with them until we can find a house. We're going to Nevada."_

_Outside, while Angel poked around in the sleeper of her daddy's Mack Titan, Jackson shook his brother's hand, giving him a quick man-hug before greeting his niece. "Thank you for helpin' us, Mike. I owe you big."_

_"Don't sweat it, brother. You're family. Besides, you know Mickie loves playing with her cousin." He gave his daughter a look and sighed, shaking his head. "You know when they hit high school, we'll be beating the boys off like flies, right?"_

_"Curse of the family, ain't it?"_

_"You've got that right."_

_Angel shoved the door open, nearly catching the back of her father's head. "I'm ready daddy!" She hopped down from the cab, the dress slung over her shoulder as she scaled the massive vehicle. She quickly offered it to her cousin. "Here's your dress, Mickie. It's itchy."_

_The dark haired girl smiled and took it. "Thanks, Angie." She folded it carefully and tucked it under her arm. "Daddy, Uncle Jack, can we go to McDonalds before we leave? Pleeeease?"_

_"Of course we can, baby doll."_

_"We've got to finish packing first. We'll meet you there in half an hour."_

_The young girls cheered wildly, bouncing in place and hugging their daddies and each other. The men smiled and took them to their respective trucks._

~oOo~

_The girl looked at her room a bit sadly. The single dresser of jeans and tee-shirts and shorts was empty, it's typically toy-coated top bare. The posters and pictures had been stripped from the race-track painted walls, leaving it a bit forlorn. The toy box had already been stashed in the back of her Uncle's truck, along with her bedding and even her little tool box. All that had been left to pack was her stuffed rabbit and the clothes she'd worn the past week._

_Her father's hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up at him from under her little ball cap. "We really gotta move, daddy?" Her little arms held the box of things tightly, like a lifeline._

_"Yeah. I know it's gonna be rough, but you'll have Mickie Mouse and her friends to show you around. And you won't have to worry about me going on the road again- Joey's going to give me a job at the shop, with him, so I won't have to leave you. I'll be right down the road at the farthest. I'll always be here for you, My Little Angel."_

_She smiled at him. "I know, daddy. Come on, we gotta go meet Mickie an' Uncle Mike!"_

~oOo~

_"Class, I'd like you to meet your new classmate, Angelica Andrews. She's just moved here from Michigan. I expect each and every one of you to make her feel welcome."_

_The tiny brunette stood awkwardly beside her new teacher, feet shuffling awkwardly in her little worker boots. Mikaela waved at her from the corner, and once the teacher told her to pick a seat, she tried not to run to take the seat between her cousin and a little blonde boy. She didn't like this new school- she didn't know where anything was or what she was supposed to do and it was just so- UGH!_

_But she had promised her daddy she would try, and she was going to walk to the shop after school anyways, so she would try her best._

_At recess, while she was carefully picking at the carburetor she had taken with her to pull apart, Mikaela sat beside her and talked to her friends excitedly. After a few days of this, she decided she most definitely didn't want to be like Mickie, but she was happy to stay in Nevada to work with her daddy and Uncle Mike._

~oOo~

_It was loud. Too loud, but for once, I didn't mind. People were everywhere, standing in groups and dressed in dirty grungy clothes, most of them holding brown bottles daddy wouldn't let me drink. I squirmed through a forest of legs, my juice pouch in hand. Every few seconds I would catch a glance of that bright white sun dress and turn to chase it. Mickie had started this new game at this party, so I wouldn't feel awkward standing beside Daddy and Uncle Mike all night._

_There! I darted between a couple, waving at them as I passed, chasing after the streak of white._

_"BOO!"_

_I squeaked, turning around to see Mickie standing there, laughing, her own apparently empty juice pouch rolled up and tucked under the ribbon tied around her waist. "I scared you, Angel! That's my point!"_

_I growled playfully and tackled her in a hug, laughing as we rolled around on the floor. "Imma Eat your Face! Rrraarghaaar!" I snapped at the air near her face. She laughed and pushed me away, sending us rolling the other way._

_"What's going on over here?" A deep baritone cut in._

_Mickie squealed and lurched up, immediately tackling the legs of the newcomer. I sat on the floor for a moment, staring up._

_The man had a beard, thick and long and speckled with grey, and a leather-and-denim jacket with patches on the shoulders and chest. His face looked almost burned, but he smiled down at me. "You must be this cousin Mickie-mouse been tellin' me about. It is an honor to meet you, Miss Angel."_

_I waved my fingers slowly. Mickie reached towards me, grinning. "Angel, this is Mad Dog Davey! He works with Daddy to keep the bad guys away!"_

_"Hi," I mumbled._

_He offered his hand, and I reached out to shake it. It was rough, and thick, but warm. "Your uncle tells me that you're a pretty good singer. Is that true?" I nodded. "Well, we need a singer up on the stage. Would you like to come sing with us?" I shook my head. "No? Why not? You ain't afraid of none of these people, are ya?" I slowly shook again. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the band."_

_He tugged me along gently, and with Mickie taking my other hand, I went along with them. The stage was just a bunch of milk crates with a sheet of plywood over it, but three people were there, looking completely content. I started digging in my heels as we got closer, but Mickie just pulled me harder. The men seemed to notice us now, waving us closer._

_"Miss Angel, I would like you to meet the rest of my crew. This is Lil' Jimmy. He plays a damn good fiddle." A blonde on the corner grinned and waved at me. "That's Abraham- ain't his real name, but he don't care." The dark man behind a set of Scrapyard Drums nodded to me, raising his bottle a bit. "An' there's Lex. Them's our band."_

_I gave another shy wave of fingers. Mickie immediately pulled me up onto the stage. I stumbled a bit, but she held me steady as she started talking to the band. Before I was completely aware of what was happening, they were playing their instruments and Mickie had a Microphone, standing beside me._

_"How do I love you!" She belted out, "Well Let me see~ I Love you like a Lyric loves a Mel-o-dy! Baby! Completely! Wrapped up in you!" She waved me towards her, tipping the microphone my way. I shook my head violently, and she continued. "How do I need you? Well can't you tell! I Need you like a penny needs a wish-in' well! Baby, Completely, Wrapped up in you!" She moved closer to me, holding me beside her with one hand and holding the microphone between us in the other. "Every now an' then, when the world that we're livin' in's crazy! You gladly hold me, and carry me through. No one in the world's ever done what you do for me, and I'd be, Sad and lonely, if there were no You~!"_

_She practically shoved the mic in my face, and I managed to squeak out a few notes with her. "How do I love you, I'll count the ways." I swallowed hard, letting her keep going. How was she so calm about this? How many people were here?! "Baby, completely, wrapped up in you."_

_When the song was done, she held me up there for another one, then another, where she ditched halfway through to stand in front to the stage and clap for me. When I finally got down, she was grinning ear to ear, coming in to hug me. I punched her shoulder instead. "That was really mean, Mickie! You know I don't like bein' in front of people!"_

_"But you did really good, Angel! What are you so afraid of?"_

_"I don't know-"_

_"Then don't be afraid!" She stated. I huffed. How could she make it sound so easy? Were other people able to just stop being scared? I shoved her away when she tried to hug me again, stomping off across the workshop towards Daddy on the couch._

_I clambered up into his lap and stayed there the rest of the night. Mad Dog Davey came over to thank me for singing, and apologized for making me stay up there so long. I mumbled an "It's okay, you didn't know," and he gently pat my shoulder._

_"Hey, baby girl," daddy started. I looked up at him. "Do you wanna come help me make some Pizza?"_

_"...The really big one?"_

_"If you think you're up for it, sure."_

_"...Okay."_

~oOo~

_He thought he was being quiet. And, really, he was. Just not quiet enough._

_I clicked on the lamp beside me. Uncle Mike spun around in a flash, eyes wide and staring and, for a fraction of a second, scared. He let out a breath when he saw it was me. "Angel, what are you doing up so late?"_

_"I wanna come with you."_

_He sighed. "Look, kid, you have no idea what you're talking about. Go inside, get back in bed. Can't believe you got out here without someone noticing-"_

_"I said, I wanna go with you. And 'm not a kid, I'm thirteen now. I know where you're going, and I wanna come."_

_"Angel, go to bed-"_

_"I'll tell daddy if you don't take me." I threatened. He squinted at me. "I heard you guys fighting about it. You know you're not supposed to be doing this anymore."_

_There was a long silence. He watched me carefully- later, he told me he was checking my resolve. Then, finally, he waved me along with him. "Come on, let's get you suited up."_

_I jumped up from the couch and skittered over to him, even as he kept going. He knelt down in the storage room, shoving a box aside and hauling a big metal door in the floor open. "This was a tornado shelter," he explained, gently and quietly putting the door down before sliding into the hole. A few seconds of scuffling later, a bundle of fabric was held up in the opening. I took it and set it on the floor beside me. "I... commandeered it for my armory. Your dad doesn't know this exists, and I would like it to stay that way. Got it?" I mumbled an affirmative. He snorted quietly and called me a smart ass. Next, he passed up what looked like a work belt, with a bunch of pockets, then a pistol in a holster- "Don't drop it, don't touch the trigger, and keep it pointed away from people, or I swear to God-" "-Okay, I know, I know"- before hauling himself out of the "commandeered" tornado shelter. "Let's get you dressed, I'm already running late."_

~oOo~

"...And this, in turn, kick started the revolution." The bell gave a faintly shrill, tinny ring to end our teachers monologue. He stared at the ceiling in irritation before addressing the class once more. "Remember, your finals are in a few weeks. And don't forget to study!"

I gave a sigh and shoved my American History book into my bag, following the crowd out of the room. I hated school. Not like that was a strange opinion. I cast a few waves and nods to a few guys I passed in the hall, the ones who had accepted me as One of the Boys. Mikaela met me at our locker, and I politely warned her she had lipstick on her teeth.

"Shit," she muttered, flipping open her little compact and wiping the smudge of rose off her pearly white tooth. I shoved the backpack in on the floor and took off again. "Where are you going?"

"Sam's getting a car and I promised I'd go. I'll be back before the douchebag gets there to pick us up."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"I'll be back before that's a problem, too." I waved at her with a meaningful look before ducking out the door.


	2. A Friend in Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel Swear a Lot. I don't try to stop most of it, it's just how she is, but I try not to drop too many fucks too close together.

Sam was a friend, but only on the basis that we sat together in class and bonded. We didn't hang out much, not that I minded. If I had the option, I'd stay at the shop 24/7 and not bother with people in general. But it was nice to say I had friends. His invitation to help get a car had caught me off guard, but he had quickly- if stutteringly- explained that his father was cheap, and he needed to know he was getting a car and not a carcass. (I mockingly applauded his use of 'carcass' and said the English teachers would be proud.)

He was waiting in front of his dad's car, bouncing in excitement. I whistled as I approached, pushing my sunglasses up to my hairline for a few seconds. "Damn. This is an oldie."

His father gave me an appraising look, then held out his hand. "Ron Witwicky. Pleasure to meet you."

I shook his hand with a smile. "Angel Andrews." I admired the car for a moment, before double-checking. "It's a… Aston Healey 3000, ain't it? The '60's model?" He looked me over again. We probably would have spent a while discussing the care and maintenance if Sam hadn't been eagerly pressing for us to go.

I rolled my eyes at his excited babble, jumping over the side of the car to settle in the back seat. Mikaela didn't understand why, but I liked the backseat. It was a nice place. Sam launched himself into the passenger seat, still babbling. It was kind of cute. Always babbling or stuttering.

"Well, I got a little surprise for you, Sammy." Ron stated as we drove. Sam turned to him in surprise. I glanced around, dismissing the Porsche dealer easily, since Sam said his dad was cheap, but the only other- Why were we pulling in?

My jaw dropped as Sam freaked, watching the cars we passed eagerly, until with a cruel laugh, Ron pulled out of the lot and into a discount sales lot. "You're not getting a Porsche for your first car!" I deflated, draping myself over the side of the car in disappointment. I almost got to look at a Porsche.

It was with great reluctance that I accepted we were going to get a car from "Bobby Bolivia's Used Car Lot." I was checking any car he picked from bumper to taillights. And if I found so much as a loose bolt, it would be hardest to decide who I'd take it out on- Sam's dad, or the crazy Quack running the place. Said Quack made his way over as Sam was explaining to his father about the cars making him "forty-year-old Virgin", with a grin that exposed all of his ridiculously white teeth and a look so greasy he could  _glide_  instead of walk.

He introduced himself as Bobby Bolivia, changing it to "Uncle Bobby Bee" once Mr. Witwicky explained Sam was getting his first car. I declined the handshake in favor of starting my analysis on a Bug that had definitely seen better days. I popped the hood, grimacing at the filth coating the engine block, and quickly catalogued everything I spotted that looked off, nudging a few pieces a bit to confirm or reassess my expectations. Bobby was already smooth-talking it, trying to sell it to Mr. Witwicky for well more than it was worth. I shut the hood with a loud clatter.

"Please tell me you aren't actually considering this piece of shit." Bobby puffed up in irritation. He looked grossly like a naked mole rat. I sighed. "This place is a dump, and obviously the mechanic has no fucking idea what he's being paid for, because the check on this engine block was shit. Bolts are so loose I can almost see the spark plugs, not to mention the filth that needs to get cleared out, and the hoses need to be replaced- you think that tape will hold longer that it takes to get this fuck-nugget off the lot? I've seen plenty of shitty jobs, but this is definitely up there in the worst."

Sam blinked at me, his father's jaw partially slack, and Bobby's face was turning an odd purplish shade. "I had no idea you swore so much."

A shrug. "Things you pick up." I scanned the lot with a critical eye. "So, who's my next victim?"

Sam shuffled along, acknowledging every sign I gave of disapproval and bypassing the vehicle he'd been about to ask about.  _There isn't a single car on this lot worth looking at. I'd like to meet this mechanic- Stuff my fucking boot so far up his ass he'll taste leather for a month._

"What about this one?" I tore myself out of my thoughts, quickly analyzing the car he'd stopped us at. A Chevy Camaro- an older model, of course, it had to be, if it was on this junkyard of a lot- but it didn't look quite as wobbly as the others did. I waltzed up, giving it my most dangerous, scrutinizing glare.

"...Still looks like shit." I turned my glare on Bolivia. "Do you do anything other than shit-patch the engines before you set them up? God, I could sell everything on this lot with a bucket of soapy water and a box of spare parts. I'll give it a glance, but if I don't like what I see, I will  _insist,"_  I looked pointedly at Mr. Witwicky, "that we find someplace else."

Bolivia made a martyr's face before sighing and sliding back into his smooth talk. I ignored him viciously, looking over the Camaro's body and kicking the tires. I swung around to the front while Bolivia took Ron to the back and Sam sat in the driver's seat. I zoned in just in time to hear the price.

"Bull shit."

He glowered at me again. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry; I thought I was speaking clearly. I SAID, BULL-FUCKING-SHIT." I smiled sweetly for a moment. "This Camaro- pretty though it may be- is a rolling shit stain. It's got dents and dings that'll cost at least Five hundred to bang out, not to mention the passenger door sticks, and that's before I've even seen the engine. Three grand or no deal." He sputtered indignantly. I raised the popped hood just enough to smush it back down. "I'll be sure to alert the local PD about how poorly you're repairing these vehicles. I'm sure there are at least a dozen violations here."

He puffed up like a rotting corpse on fast forward.

~oOo~

"I can't believe you did that."

"The sassing a car salesman, the swearing, or threatening to involve the police?"

"The getting-me-this-car part. This has to have been the best car on the lot! And you cut the price to three grand!"

"Well, don't celebrate yet, hot-shot." I hauled myself out of the cab at his house, rounding to the front. "I was... sort-of exaggerating about the body work, but I still haven't seen the engine, and if it's even half the hot mess the others were, you've got a long ways to go even if you don't want new paint. Pop the hood."

He obeyed and I tugged the latch just under the hood to fully release it. The hood eased up. I nearly choked.

"Angel? Angel! What's wrong, are you okay-?"

"This fucking engine..." I made a noise between a sigh and a growl, leaning heavily on the bumper. "This is so fucking gorgeous... There is no way he got this car on his lot on his own. There's no way he would have dropped the price if he knew this was in there. There's no way this would  _be there_ if he knew it was there. This is a gorgeous piece of machinery and if I ever hear so much as a peep about you not liking this car I would happily pay you five grand for it. Fuck, I'd pay you half of my savings account for this beast."

"I... have never seen you so passionate before. It's honestly almost as intimidating as that death glare you gave the car salesman."

I felt a sour smirk take my face. "Some things you're born with. Some things you learn." I lightly traced some of the hoses, eventually pursing my lips. "Shit, I dunno bro, I'm gettin' some serious vibes off this car. Something's off. No way that walking grease stain got this legally."

"You- ah, you have a lot of insults up your sleeves don't you? I've heard several variations of retard, I think you threw out a few 'stupid fuck nugget's, and now walking grease stain-"

I snorted. "Did you see him? He's so slicked up he  _glides_ when he walks. He doesn't go to a barber to get a haircut; he goes to a  _Jiffy-Lube_ , for an  _oil change._ Shit, he looked like he crawled out of a deep fryer." I glanced up. "Shall I continue?"

He had a look between a laughing smile and a vaguely disgusted stare.

I went back to speculating on the car's existence. I pursed my lips carefully. "I'll tell you what, kid. I like you- you behave pretty well- so I'll take some safety precautions. Mostly, I'll make sure this car came legit, not bought off some gangster or stolen from an uptown area. Do yourself a favor and try not to drive all over town flaunting until I get some results, alright?"

He was clearly confused, but after a moment stuttered out "Ah- y-yeah, sure. Um, how, uh, how are you going to make sure it wasn't... stolen?"

I pat him condescendingly on the shoulder. "Trust me bro, you're better off clueless." I pulled out my phone and took a few steps back to get the whole car in the picture, then moved around to the back and snapped one of the license plate and tucked it back in my pocket. I made to get back to the engine, but my watch started beeping its alarm. I quickly checked the time under the grease-stained glass.

"Shit, it's almost four." I glanced around quickly, half expecting my bike to be sitting on the curb, then dropped another F-bomb. I turned to Sam urgently. "I need to get home in the next fifteen minutes or shit is going down. Can you drop me off, please?"

He stammered his agreement and clambered into the driver's seat. I shut the hood with a clunk and took the passenger seat. For a moment it was quiet, the radio gave an odd whirr, like it was scanning frequencies, before a soft song came on over the speakers. After a few seconds of it, I smiled. I knew this song.

_"...'cause every time I try to tell her how I feel it comes out 'I Love you.' She's got whatever it is."_

"So... How did you get into cars and that kind of, uh...?"

"Mechanics?" He nodded. "... It's a long story. Short version, I was just born with it. My dad fostered my tom-boying, and next thing I know, I'm working in the shop, side by side with the two men I loved more than anything- My dad and my uncle."

"Huh." He watched the road, seeming like he was thinking. "It's just, you know, with Mikaela being the way she is, and with you being... well..."

"Not?"

"No, more... natural? At first glance, you just look a bit more like a model than a mechanic."

"...Really?" I leaned back in my seat. "...I think that's the first time anyone's said that without being rude."

He immediately clammed up. "I-I'm sorry, was that a bad thing to say? I mean, I didn't mean to say anything shallow or-or-or rude or something-"

"Hey." He hushed. "You didn't offend me. Tone makes all the difference in the world. Usually people are trying to tell me I don't know what I'm talking about." My watch beeped again, and I glanced at it. Ten minutes. "You can take this right, then cut through an alley halfway down the block."

He obeyed easily. "So, did Mikaela ever get into the mechanics, or is she more what you see is what you get?"

"She liked being in the shop for a while. Gave her a chance to spend time with her dad, since he was always in there. She could probably still rebuild an alternator, but otherwise... she just kind of lost interest, around fifth grade. But she's definitely not 'what you see is what you get' like most girls at school." I watched the neighborhood morph into something I recognized. "Take a left, and we're the third from the end."

He pulled along as instructed, and I hauled myself out of the cab as Mikaela glared at me from the doorway. "It's 3:57, why the hell are you cutting it so close?" She snapped before I was ever halfway across the yard.

"Hi, Angel, how was the car hunt? Oh, it was Great, Kae, thanks for asking!" I turned and waved Sam off, waiting for him to take off. "Hey, it's awful close to cut-off, why are you so late? Just had to deal with some minor issues with Sam's new car. It's okay, I still made it!" I smiled at her politely before pushing past and moving to the living room. I sat in front of the little black box, lifting my ankle up to rest it on the end table. A quick tug of my pant leg and my ankle cuff was exposed- not necessary, but I enjoyed watching. The clock struck four and the box beeped. The light on my anklet flashed three times, an old yellow color, then went back to a solid green. Kae stood in the doorway, glaring still. "See? Right on time." I pulled off my hoodie and bunched it up on the edge of the shabby but comfy brown couch.

"Yeah, 'right on time' my ass. You know damn well you were supposed to be back by three-thirty. I covered for you with Uncle Jack this time, but if you start making a habit of running off with random boys from class-"

"Shut your fucking mouth." She glowered at me as I pushed up out of the couch, mild annoyance darkened to low-grade rage. "Don't you fucking dare start talking about me like I'm some stupid slut who's gonna get in trouble hangin' out with boys. You've been bitter since the sentences were decided. I've got this stupid thing because I wouldn't squeal, and I wouldn't squeal because 'Family First, Family Always.' I thought you might remember that a little bit better, so how about you quit riding my dick about 'bad behavior' and shape the fuck up yourself? Get off your high horse before your thinking my record makes you better than me causes us a real problem." Her gaze flickered away. I took a step back. "I know how all of this works, and I know  _you_. Don't you  _ever_  forget that."

She turned and trotted to the front door to put on her heels while I turned for the other door and stopped short. "...Hi daddy."

He stood in the doorway like a boulder. His face was set in a frown- not his slightly bothered frown, or his I-don't-know-what's-wrong frown, but his disappointed frown. I fought the instinct to look at my feet.  _I hadn't done anything wrong this time._  "You were almost late, Angel. What happened?"

"Sam asked me to come with him to get his first car. His dad's cheap and he wanted to know he was getting something good. I stayed over at his place because I wanted to finish looking it over, and because I think it might have been stolen. Possibly gang related. I didn't do anything wrong- I just got distracted."

He scrutinized me from head to toe, watching for a sign, then very slowly nodded. "I believe you. Did you take pictures?" I nodded, pulling out my phone to show him. "I'll get them to Bit later tonight. Try not to forget again."

"Yes dad." I gave him my phone and hugged him tight, relaxing slightly when he held me tighter. Forgiven.

"Good. Now go, that boy's waiting for you out front." As if on cue, a horn honked outside. I smiled. He planted a kiss on my forehead then shooed me out the door, giving the boys and their truck a distasteful look.

Trent visibly deflated when I walked out the door in the same tee-shirt and baggy cargos I wore to school, minus hoodie. A few hoots and hollers from the boys in the truck bed echoed his disappointment. I rolled my eyes and joined Mickie in the backseat.

Another stupid beach party. I didn't understand why Mickie insisted on going- we never actually swam, and if we wanted to we were just pulled back and used for eye candy. It was a stupid social thing. I lounged against a tree, listening to Trent the Douchebag and his Douche squad hit on girls and act manly. It was warm enough... maybe I'd just... take a nap for this stupid party...

I heard a familiar engine growl and leaned around the tree to see Sam and one of his friends climbing out of the Camaro. I wasn't sure if I wanted to smile or face palm.

"Hey, check it out."  _Please not now, Trent._ "Hey! Hey, I know you." Someone was climbing in my tree. I glanced up. Hippie boy.  _Mike? Something with an 'M'_ , I thought. "You tried out for football last year, yeah?"

"Yeah, uh, no, that wasn't an- an actual tryout. I was doing... doing some research. For a book I'm writing." Sam.

"Oh really? What's it called? 'Sucking at sports?'" Trent and his goonies laughed. I fought a sigh and lost.

"No, it's uh, 'The link between Football and Brain Damage.'" The laughter stopped. I smiled. "It's a great book, your friends will love it, it's got games, mazes, little coloring areas-"

"Are you making fun of me?" I quickly got up and stood between them.

"Hey, hey. Stop. No fighting, please, I just got unsuspended."

Sam flickered his gaze to me, then back to Trent, then back to me again before flickering to Mikaela.

Trent huffed like an angry bull. "...Come on. I know a party." He led his cronies to the truck.

I pat Sam on the shoulder. "Nice come back. Try to stay out of trouble?" I followed the crowd to the truck.

Mikaela smooshed up to Trent. "Hey, why don't you let me drive?"

Trent was quick to deny. "Ah, no, no. See, these 22's- I don't want you grinding 'em. So, why don't my little bunnies just hop in the backseat?"

I squinted, expecting her to give him a short earful- she didn't put up with shit like that, no way. She frowned, straightening up a bit… Then she sighed and climbed in.

I tapped his shoulder. As he turned around, I swung a fist around to clock him in the eye. I prayed it would swell like a bitch.

"Angel, what the hell?!" Mickie screamed at me from the back.

I glared at her. "You're such a let-down. If Uncle Mike were here you would have punted this asshole into the lake by now. You might be able to put up with him, 'Little Bunny,' but I sure as hell won't."

She huffed open-mouthed in shock, and I turned away. "You're not going anywhere with me again. Ever."

I turned to her, already several steps down the road. "Is that supposed to change my mind?  _Good!_ I only come because you ask me to! Now if you don't mind,  _Bunny,_ I'm going home."

I could hear her apologizing to Trent behind me. It made me sick- she wasn't a sniveler, at least not when Uncle Mike had been around. She had changed so much over the two years he'd been gone- she wasn't anything like my Mickie anymore. It was almost painful. She'd gotten so... so  _soft._ It was like she had forgotten everything we used to be- there had been a time when she was my left and I was her right, a time we went everywhere together, a time we were completely inseparable. We'd been invincible, then. A perfect two. And now... we were practically opposites.

An engine revved up to my side, and I prepared another lashing.

"Hey! Angel! I was wondering if- if I could ride you home- I mean give you a ride, a ride home, to your place, in my car. Yeah?"

I slowed down, looking at him for a long moment. He had a hopeful look on his face... but no arrogance, or... well, anything Trent had. And my hip was already starting to act out... "...Sure. Yeah."

He opened the door for me, stopping so I could drop in and buckle up. Polite. Another point in his favor. The radio kicked up another song, and I leaned on the window.

"I can't believe this is happening." I wanted to slap myself when I said it. That was supposed to be an inny, not an out.

"Well, you can duck down, if you, you know, want to hide-"

"No, no, not the being here with you part, I mean, the having to beat up Mik- ... Kaela's boyfriend. I don't usually have to fight her fights. She's always been so... so in charge. And now she's just... Typical Teenage Girl."

"Well... People... Change? You know, they, uh, they expand, they look for new things, they just... change. And sometimes for the better, sometimes not. But you don't really know until it's over, you know?"

That was… surprisingly Insightful. Hm. "...Yeah. I guess you're right." I still didn't like it.

We were rolling along the canyon road- I liked the canyon. It was so pretty, especially at sunset. I was just starting to wonder if we could stop when the engine started sputtering, then died. I sat up a little straighter. "You didn't mess with anything under the hood, did you?"

"No! I- I haven't touched anything, I just- I just picked up Miles and- and drove to the beach party and that's- that's it!" We rolled to a stop as some love song started on the radio. I frowned, pulling my hair back with the scrunchie on my wrist. Sam was babbling again- how he wasn't doing this, how he wasn't trying to be romantic and how it's something a romantic friend would do.

"Chill. Just pop the hood; I'll see what's going on."

I moved to the front and tugged the hood up, scanning over it quickly. I tightened the distributor cap, felt along a couple of hoses, tugged on the sides of them to make sure they were tight. "Turn it over for me?" He obeyed. The alternator sounded a bit worn out- that didn't make sense, though, because the rest of the engine looked brand new... "Might be... Maybe something in the undercarriage. Do you mind if I borrow your hoodie?"

He pulled it off and passed it to me. I smiled back and pulled it over my shoulders before shimmying my way under the front. "I don't see anything... Nothing really looks out of place... It could be an internal problem, then. Might be the alternator. You don't have any tools, do you?" I shimmied back out, shaking what dirt and sand I could off the hoodie and passing it back.

"Uh... maybe we could call someone in your family to bring some out?"

I stared out into the canyon, then leaned back on the bumper. "Nah. It's... it's probably the heat. Just have to wait for it to cool down, and then it should start up." I looked up at him. "Shut the hood. Might as well sit down for a little while."

I sighed again, closing my eyes. The hood thunked shut, and after a moment I could feel his presence. The sun still burned into my eyes.

"So... if- if you hate Trent so much, why do you hang out with him? You don't really seem like the type to put up with less than what you want."

I dared to open my eyes, watching the heat waves rise off the ground. "I do it for my Mickie. I know she's still in there somewhere. As much as I hate Trent, the rest of his goonies, and the stupid parties they're always dragging me to... she was my best friend, my entire childhood. I guess I'm just... waiting for her to come back."

"Oh."

"And I get to oogle hotties in beach wear, and that's always nice."

"O- _oh._ Right. Yeah."

"What about you?" I countered. "You're a pretty quiet guy, but you know a lot more than you let on. I can see it, every time someone asks you a question. Why don't you ever try for something more?"

"Me? Oh, I'm... I'm just a... a pretty normal guy. Average, I guess. I'm no jock, that's for sure, and I'm not exactly a brainiac. Hard to get more when you don't have anything to reach with."

"Hm." A small flock of birds flew past, drifting on the air currents. I smiled softly. A sudden urge bubbled up in my chest- I wanted to tell him more. Like how I wanted to be a pilot. About me, my dad, my uncle- about my life and about how I wanted to change the world. I swallowed hard.

Without warning, I pushed myself to my feet. "Let's see if it'll start. I should be getting home anyways."

Sam obliged, stuttering slightly as he jumped up and dropped into the driver's seat. "You, ah, you don't really talk much, do you? That's cool." He fumbled with the keys for a second, then turned it over. After a few sputters, it caught. I settled back in my seat.

The radio didn't play any more love songs. Sam and I sat quietly, listening to the oldies station- some great classic rock. Lots of AC/DC. I almost wished he would say something. Almost.

As we pulled to a stop out front of my house, the sun gone down and the street lights on, I blurted out, "You think I'm a bitch?"

"A-A- w-what? Why, why would I think that?"

"Because everyone does. I'm either a bitch or I'm just one of the boys, and honestly, I'm not sure which one I hate more." I clenched my jaw shut so I wouldn't keep growling about who I was. I was okay with my lot. It was more than enough. "Sorry, I'm being… stupid."

"Well... I... I think there's a, a lot more than meets the eye, with you."

I turned to him, scrutinizing for a moment, then let a smile spread across my face. "Thank you. And, thanks for the ride." I opened the door to climb out, leaning over to finish talking. "I'll get back to you later on the car, when I get some news from the guys. So... I'll... see you at school?"

"Y-yeah. Absolutely."

I shut the door, listening to the clang of metal before I walked back to the house. He idled in the road for a minute before taking off. I listened to the engine's growl until it faded away.

"You're a nice guy, Witwicky. Don't change that."


	3. When Shit Hits the Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...You better duck.

The garage dad owned(technically, co-owned, but with Uncle Mike still in prison he was effectively The Owner) was a bit beat up and run down, but it'd been standing since we'd moved to Nevada, and I'd spent so much time there I knew the whole place to a tee, from the floorboards that squeaked to the drawers that stuck. It was a lot less busy now, with several of the old regulars out of town or arrested with Uncle Mike, but we still got oil changes and tire swaps daily. Dad was talking to a new customer while I cleaned up a few tools that had gotten splattered with oil.

Auto work was better than therapy, in my opinion. I was still irritated with Mikaela and her dunce of a boyfriend, but it was hard to focus on it when there was something mechanical under my hands. Cleaning and organizing was less effective, but still relatively important, so I did it anyway. Wrenches, screwdrivers- Phillips and flat heads separate- Metric sockets, 3/4 drives then 1/2 inch drives, then Standard sockets, same order; Brass hammer, rubber mallet, 5 lbs sledge and 10 lbs sledge.

"So Mikaela was real upset when she got home. Without you." I 'hmm'ed and continued polishing a socket wrench. "Said something about you 'having no self control'? 'Can't act like a normal person'?"

"Like any of us are actually 'normal'."

Dad sighed, pulled the socket wrench out of my hands and tucked it in it's slot in the case. I casually turned around to lean against the worktable like I hadn't been trying to avoid the question. He leaned next to me, sighed again. "Alright, what happened."

"Me and Mikaela's asshole had a. Disagreement. He was rude to Mikaela. She didn't correct him, so. I did." He rolled his hand in a 'go on' motion. I looked over at the door across the garage. "... He's probably got a black eye. I only hit him once. And-!" I fidgeted with my hands, irritated again and needing something moving- "I would have left him alone! I would have! If Mikaela had said anything, I would have left him alone, but he-  _ugh._ He called us his 'Little Bunnies' and told us to hop in the back seat." I looked at Dad with the most serious face I could. "He wouldn't let her drive, because he was afraid. She would...  _Grind. His rims."_ He made a face of disgust. "Exactly."

He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright. And how does that Witwicky boy tie into this? I know he brought you home, I recognized that car of his."

I shrugged, moving my hands back to the worktable. "He came to the beach for the party. And after I punched Trent, obviously I wasn't riding home with him, so I started walking. Sam offered to give me a ride before I got too far. We talked, I checked up on the car, and he brought me home."

He 'hmm'ed back, slowly straightened up, and before walking away handed me the shop keys. "Just got a nice woman in that needs her front drivers ball joint replaced. You grab the parts, I'll get the tire off."

~oOo~

I kept track of Mikaela in the back of my mind, hearing her walk and vaguely feeling her aura in the tiny kitchen. I fought a small frown as I worked on picking apart and cleaning out a carburetor. I had expected her to cave within five hours, but a good forty hours later, making a late lunch salad, she still had yet to speak a word to me. As she came towards the table, I deliberately blew sand out of the piece in my hands and across the tabletop, including the spot where she would have to set her plate. She tensed up like she did before verbal abuse, then slowly exhaled and calmly swept the sand away with her free hand. I allowed the frown now, watching her.

"You're not seriously still pissed I punched that asshole, are you?" I demanded when she took her first bite.

She calmly swallowed her bite and speared another with her fork. "Angelica," She started. I felt my chest cool from the inside. "I would appreciate if from now on you avoided using the dining table for your little time-wasters."

I stared at her for a long moment. She finished another bite. "I can't believe you. My 'little time-wasters'? In case you really have forgotten, there was a time not very long ago when me, you, dad and Uncle Mike would sit around this table with a toolbox to share and as many of these 'little time-wasters' as we could find beside us and spend an entire Saturday night pulling them apart and cleaning them and putting them back together, talking about what we'd done over the week!" Under the table, I could feel my knees shaking. I couldn't tell if it was from anger or grief., so i just pushed harder against the floor. "We used to be a  _family_ , Mikaela. We used to be everything we ever needed, right here!  _We_ were  _fine_ without those  _idiots you hang around!_  It used to be you and me, fighting the world that wanted to tear us apart!" I shoved myself to my feet, backing away from the table, project forgotten under the need to move. "What ever happened to 'Family First?' What happened to  _My_ Mikaela? What happened to the little girl who wanted nothing more than to help me carry tools to dad and Uncle? What happened to the girl who wanted to grow up just like her daddy?  _What happened to OUR Mickie-Mouse?!"_

She glared at me dangerously, slapping her fork down on the table with a clatter. "My  _Dad_ became a  _convicted felon_ and my  _Best Friend_ chose  _a year in prison over-!"_

 _"Over what?!"_ I screamed back, cutting her off completely. "Over giving Uncle Mike a lifer because I was willing to give up everything he'd done to keep us safe?! Over sitting pretty at the stand?  _Oh no, Your Honor, I didn't WANT to do bad_   _things!"_ I scrunched up my face in a mockery of innocent puppy face, lip pouting too far and hands clasped under my chin. _"It was my mean old uncle! It was so scawy! Yes, he killed people! Yes, he was in a gang! Yes, he did every awful thing you can imagine!_ _"_ I scoffed and shoved my chair back under the table- too hard, moving the table several inches closer to Mikaela. "We would have lost him forever! And half of that shit he didn't even do! I'm not gonna lie and throw someone else under the bus to save my ass! And the Mickie I knew would never have even  _suggested it!"_

She slammed both her hands on the tabletop- which groaned in complaint at the repeated abuse- and stood, tossing her chair back where it tilted against the counter. "I used to think you were never gonna leave me! I used to think it was  _so fucking cool_ that you and Dad were off on secret adventures every night! I used to think there was never going to be any consequences for you guys doing illegal things, and now I know that  _none of that was true!_ You  _left me behind_ when I  _needed_ you to help me!  _He told you to take the fucking deal!"_ She hit the table again in emphasis. "You going to jail was never about  _'Family First,'_ it was all you and your  _fucking pride-!"_

" _FUCK YOU!"_ I shook my head rapidly, stomping out the doorway and wanting so bad to just-  _smash_  something. I turned back to scream at her again instead.  _"It's ALWAYS been about family for me, you bitch! I WOULD DIE BEFORE I GAVE HIM UP!"_

I was in the living room, beside the anklet monitor. My hand smashed down the reset button, and I was running out the door before the yellow had flashed back to green. My worn down sneakers hit the pavement and I went faster. I didn't even really care where I went- I didn't care if I got hit by a bus, or, preferably, a semi. I just needed to get rid of the anger, all the tension and extra energy- I just needed to go.

When I finally stopped I was exhausted. My legs burned, my chest ached. I was pretty far from home, too. I was getting into the more up-scale areas of town. I still wanted to run.

I leaned on a building at the corner, waiting for my heart rate to slow to something manageable. My eyes prickled with the last of the anger that slowly died out. Silently, I berated myself.  _Rule number one,_ I chastised,  _never lose control. What would uncle say if he saw you like this?_

Once I was under control again, I started walking toward the nearest popular hangout- a Burger King about a block away. I eased onto the lot, taking a seat at a table near the crowd but not quite in it, sighing as the pain I hadn't fully registered in my hip faded. Like it had been my plan all along. I went to a lot of hangouts, anyway, and I was just about always bored out of my mind. I didn't look even the slightest out of place. I slowly slouched down until i was propping my head up on my hand.

A streak of pink flew our way. With a jump and a crash, Sam was sprawled on the concrete beside me, groaning. A pink bike dinged quietly behind him. I jolted away in surprise, feeling another buzz of energy.

"Sam?!"

He groaned. "Hi."

"Uh, what just happened?!"

He scurried to his feet, frantically looking around. I knew that look. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just- I'm kinda going insane. Being chased by my car right now, I gotta go, I'll explain later-"

"No, no, Fuck later." I hauled him to his feet, glanced around, and dragged him over to a motorcycle that had been left outside, unguarded. I swung a leg over and fished a metal blank out of my pocket. "Get on, you can explain on the way." Keeping the mockup out of sight, I jiggled it in the ignition until it turned and started up. We tore out of the parking lot already speeding. I caught sight of the Camaro a block behind us, just turning a corner. "Start talking!"

"Last night, My Camaro was stolen out of my driveway, right?" He was half yelling over the wind. I tried to avoid turning. "I chased after it, followed it to a junkyard, and then, next thing I know, it  _transformed_ into a giant robot! Right there in the junkyard!"

"Either hold on tighter or grab the gas tank in front of me, we need to turn!" I cut in as quickly as I could. He scrunched in against my back, arms wrapping around my waist so tight it constricted the blood flow to my feet. I leaned, underestimating the weight transfer and had to stomp a foot down between the side of the bike and the pavement, pulling off a wobbly but successful hairpin turn. "It transformed? ...Were you high?"

" _Why does everyone assume I was drugged?"_

"Okay, okay, sorry, had to ask. It- transformed, yeah?"

"Yeah, then it chased me around the junkyard, and when the police got there, they arrested me! My dad bailed me out of jail yesterday!" He squeaked-  _squeaked-_ when I made another turn, down an alley too thin for the car to follow. It would have been cute if he wasn't still squeezing me in half. "A-And this morning, I wake up, and the car is driving itself into the driveway! I panicked, and I tried to get away, and it followed me!  _There's no one driving my car!"_

I made a last turn, slowing down now, and swung into an old parking garage. We came to a stop behind a pile of scrapped cars, out of sight from the road, and I braced the bike so Sam could clamber off, shaking like he was freezing. I put down the kickstand and caught his shoulders. "Sam, hey, don't go getting hysterical on me. It might be fun to slap you around but we need to be serious about this." He was still shaking when I sat him on the front of a car. "Look at me, Sam." I lifted his eyelids slightly when he obeyed, watching his pupils dilate in response. "Now. Nice and slow. Did your car really transform?"

"Yes!"

"Easy tiger." I tilted his head a few degrees in each direction. "No one drove it? Not a friend, not a parent? No one?"

"No, no one but me."

I stared at him seriously for a long moment. His eyes shined, reading a volley of emotions, none of them guilt, or even a hint of a lie. I nodded slowly. "I believe you."

He perked up instantly. "You do?!"

"At the very least, I know you aren't making it up." I limped a few steps away, cursing my battered joints. "Your car might not have actually transformed, and it might not be driving itself, but you believe it did and is. So for now, we sit, we think and we come up with a..." He started to urge me on, and I shushed him, listening hard. "...I thought I heard... another car..."

I started creeping towards a beaten and battered Volkswagen. I hadn't reached it when the police cruiser pulled around and started revving towards us. I watched it with wary eyes, muscles coiled and ready to spring.

Then, with a loud  _schunk,_ the panels of the car shifted out and the cruiser transformed into a massive red-eyed robot.

I temporarily went numb. The cruiser glanced at me, then focused on Sam, backing him against a car several meters back. I watched dumbly as it beat the hood in inches from his side, yelling at him. "Are you username LadiesMan217?" This was definitely a dream. I must have fallen asleep at the table. Sam stuttered out a reply as I slowly gained my footing and wobbled over to the Motorcycle, walking it back to get a good start. It screamed at Sam again and he ran over the car, taking off across the parking area towards another exit. The cruiser followed after him, snarling. I revved up the engine and took pursuit.

I kicked it up a few gears as I went along, bracing myself for a very painful dismount, or to just abruptly wake up. The Camaro Sam had been so terrified of swooped in front of him, sliding to a stop and popping open the door. The cruiser snarled again, and I shouted wordlessly,, holding the accelerator as far as I dared and speeding towards it. The robot turned just before I threw myself to the side, leaving the bike on a collision course for its chest.

I rolled along the ground roughly, feeling a searing pain in my shoulder, and struggled upright, stumbling back away from the cruiser-thing as the motorcycle blew up in its face. Sam was in front of me a moment later, ushering me to the open door. I followed, still feeling numb.

We took off, quickly getting distance before the cruiser was after us again. Sam was shouting on repeat, the radio blaring some action music. After a moment, sitting in the passenger seat, cradling my arm instinctively, a laugh bubbled up my throat. Then another. Then another. Within seconds I had dissolved into laughter, though I couldn't figure out what was so funny, and I simply couldn't stop.

Sam was panicking, shouting at me like I'd lost my mind. The idea made me laugh harder. I was almost doubled over, laughing into the dashboard. Trying to catch my breath, I leaned back into the seat. The music changed- it sounded more like a movie clip now. Sam turned me by my injured shoulder, cutting my laughter into a shrill squeak of pain. His hand met my cheek with an echoing  _smack!_

There was a beat of silence before he was stammering again, apologizing profusely and blaming the car. I raised a finger to silence him before lightly rubbing my cheek. City streets were still flying past outside the window.

"...I probably needed that." I blinked solidly and turned to face the front, catching a rattling breath. "So thank you. But if you ever hit me without my permission, the police will never find your body. Okay?"

"O-Okay."

The sun was setting quickly, and I racked my brains, lightly feeling my shoulder. "Do me a favor. Brace your back against the door... get your feet up here. Good." I shut my eyes tight. "Now kick my shoulder back into the socket."

"WHAT?!"

"Did I fucking  _stutter?_ " I glared at him from the corner of my eye. "It's a minor dislocation, and I need it back in place. Now  _kick. My fucking shoulder."_ He started to object and I shouted. " _NOW!"_

Pain. I groaned irritably. The radio whirred. "... _Annie are you okay, are you okay, are you okay Annie..."_

"I'm fine." I glanced behind us, watching the cruiser swerve through a group of cars, slowly gaining. "But that fucker's closing in, and I don't think he's going to care that I'm recently injured."

Another whirr, this time apparently of agreement. I was thrown against the door when the Camaro jerked around and jumped a curb, flying through the side of a warehouse. I immediately started swearing, bracing myself in the seat so I wasn't thrown about the cab. When we burst through another wall, I kicked the dash. "What the hell was that about?! Leave a path like that and it'll follow us halfway across the country!" I glanced in the mirror to watch it swoop through the opening we left behind. "You wanna lose that fucker; you listen to me and do exactly what I say!" I glanced around, then pointed out an alley. "Take the left!"

Camaro hung the left at gravity-defying speed and shot between the buildings. "Hard right in three!" Another unbelievable turn. I shouted out directions and the car obeyed them to a tee, despite the disbelief on Sam's face. Eventually, when we had the breathing room, I ordered it to back into a driveway in an abandoned part of town and cut the engine.

Sam was staring at me like I'd grown a second head. I glanced back and whispered, "What? You think I won't know my own home town?"

"You are a lot more street-smart than I thought you would be and that terrifies me."

I scoffed. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

The police car slowly drove by, oblivious to our presence as far as I could tell. I waited a long moment after it passed before urging the car to start. It turned over, but didn't catch. I started swearing under my breath. "Come on, come on, this is  _not_ a good place to break down-"

It caught at the last moment and we were off. I hoped like hell the car knew where it was going, because it had gotten dark enough that I couldn't navigate at high speeds. I braced my hands against the roof and center console, biting my tongue to keep a slew of complaints in. For a few seconds I tried to keep track of the turns, but it was a lost cause.

The car slid to a stop very suddenly, door opening and seat bucking underneath me, and by the time I'd gotten off the gravel, Sam had been thrown out beside me. The Camaro was transforming now. I gawked openly as it ducked a bit into a fighting stance. Sam's squeak snapped me back to us.

"Let's go, let's go!" I yanked him up by the arm, running before he'd fully gotten to his feet. I heard the crash of robots hitting each other and tried to run faster. My legs still ached from my earlier run.

Sam shrieked again, and I skid for a moment, turning to look back. A tiny silver robot had tackled his legs and was trying to drag him away. It only succeeded in pulling his pants down. That would have been funny if it wasn't trying to kill him. I dashed back, taking the longest stride I could manage and kicking it in the chest. It flew back several yards, taking Sam's pants with it. I half dragged Sam along beside me now, urging him onward to a tool shed ahead- it was a poor hiding place but if we could get a door between us and the murder bot we might have a better chance to fight it. We were almost to the door when it returned, clinging to Sam's back and making him run into the fence beside us instead. I bashed through the door before I could stop to help, nearly ripping a saws all off the table when I caught my balance on it.

I gave it a quick couple revs to check the battery, then ran to the rescue. Sam had thrown it off, but it was scuttling back for him. I swung the blade down on it, trying not to hear the shrieks it made, until it lay in pieces on the dirt. The head still crawled around.

"Not so tough without a head, huh?!" Sam kicked it harshly, sending it flying, and did a sort of victory dance before realizing I had a death grip on the saw and carefully tried prying my fingers loose. "Hey, Are you okay?"

I snorted, letting him take my weapon. "You just got attacked by a tiny robot thing intent on killing you and you're asking me if  _I'm_ okay?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one clinging to a hand saw like a lifeline." He put said saw on the ground and looked around. "...Come on. Let's see what's going on with my car."

I followed him, shaking my head, back up the hill we'd run down, to the edge of a drainage ditch. My knee ached and wobbled-  _stop running you bitch-_ and i grit my teeth. After a moment, one of the hulking robots moved forward out of the smoke. Yellow. The Camaro.

It waved its arm, sending a cannon-  _a fucking cannon, good god, I wasn't sure if that was cool as hell or terrifying-_ into the mechanical works beneath a plate of... armor, I supposed, that slid over to hide it.

"I don't think he wants to hurt us, or he would've done it already." I slowly crept forth, just behind the almost babbling Sam. "I think... I think he wants something from me."

"What are you talking about?" I hissed, still watching the blue-eyed robot. It was waiting patiently. I think. It didn't look  _im_ patient.

"Well, the other one was talking about my EBay page." He took another half-step. "Can you talk?" He called up.

" _...XM Satellite Radio...Digital Cable brings you… Columbia Broadcasting system..."_ The car's radio buzzed about, getting clips of sound to speak for it.

"You talk through the radio?" He clarified.

The robot nodded energetically, clapping and playing a clip. " _Thank you, Thank you; You're wonderful, wonderful..."_

Sam shuffled awkwardly. "So what was that last night?"

" _...Message from Starfleet, Captain… Throughout inanimate vastness of space… Angels will rain down like visitors from heaven, Hallelujah!"_

I mouthed the words to myself before blurting out, "You're an alien?"

He nodded again, eyes shining and squinting like he was smiling. He took a step back, crouching down while his pieces shifted around until the old Camaro rested in front of us. The door opened while the radio played, " _Any more questions you wanna ask?"_

Sam almost immediately started up to the door. I felt frozen in place. My instinct was clear- turn tail and run, you don't know what'll happen, you need to get home,  _Family first, Family Always_. But at the same time, this robot... it was beyond anything I'd ever seen before. And Sam- I'd gotten kinda fond of him, he was family too now.

Sam looked back at me. "Are you coming?" I shifted my weight to my heels, glancing down uncertainly.  _What would Uncle Mike do?(Go with it, gather information, get home and prepare) What would Daddy do?(No, Go Home, you don't need more trouble, you have to take care of yourself)_ "Hey. Fifty years from now, looking back on your life, don't you want to be able to tell people you had the guts to get in the car?"

I looked him in the eye, holding his gaze. He stared back earnestly, eyes shining. He wasn't afraid of this now. His eyes had no fear, just adventure, excitement. I nodded and started up the hill to his side, then into the car. He pulled over to courteously let Sam grab his pants, which he squirmed into in the passenger seat. Sam graciously allowed me the driver's seat, and I brushed aside the discomfort of knowing I was sitting in a relatively sentient being in favor of admiring the... grace of it. Granted, I wasn't exactly comfortable actually sitting in the seat. I mean,  _he_ was driving, not me, and it felt... wrong sitting in the driver's seat without control. I hovered over it instead.

"Why don't you sit in the seat?"

Oh, oblivious Sam. "He's a sentient being. I feel weird taking credit for driving when I'm not."

A moment of silence. "Why don't you scoot over here and sit on my lap?"

I looked at him, squinting. "...Are you flirting with me?"

"N-No, no, it's just... I have the only seat belt. You know. Safety First."

I felt the muscles in my face loosen into a stare of surprise. That... was a really bad cover-up. Cute though. Unbidden, I smiled. "Yeah. Alright. 'Safety first.'"

I shifted over the center console, settling in his lap and letting him pull the seatbelt around us. I could feel his heartbeat, slightly elevated. His breathing was shallow, probably because he didn't want to make me uncomfortable. Nevermind that he was a bit bony to be a proper chair.

"That was pretty quick thinking." I turned my head a bit. "The seatbelt thing."

I felt the vibrations of his laugh more than I actually heard it. "Thank you."

"But I still don't understand." I turned back to the dashboard. "He's a super advanced alien robot... but this is literally the  _worst_  year of the camaro line-?"

The brakes were promptly squeaking, and before I could finish my sentence Sam and I had been kicked from the passenger seat while our ride spun off in the other direction. Sam was ranting about how three grand had just drove away.

"... Does he just... really like his crappy Camaro? He could be so much cooler." I finished quietly. I sighed and turned to start walking when the rumble of that familiar engine came our way again. I straightened my back, turning on a toe and a heel to see an absolutely gorgeous, brand new, black-and-yellow Camaro rolling to a stop beside us. I smiled. "Now this... this is much more fitting."

The doors flicked open, and I happily took shotgun while Sam dropped into the driver's seat, staring at his cars makeover in awe. I grinned and put a finger under his chin. "Careful kid, you're drooling."

He quickly shut his mouth.

I watched out the window as the world flew by. I was still settling from the shock of an alien robot car fighting another alien robot car that kinda happened to be a friend of mine's car. Despite, I had that tingling feeling in the back of my head that I'd forgotten about something, like an itch between my shoulder blades that i couldn't quite reach.

My watch beeped, and I felt my stomach drop.


	4. Spilled Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *memes at you from the void*

The faintly glowing numbers on my watch face read 9:00. I'd hit the reset on my box just before noon. Hitting the Reset meant I had eight hours before I had to check in again, instead of twelve when it was on schedule. I was an hour late already- the police would have been alerted, and probably started a search after a half-hour without check-in. I gave the longest string of expletives I could manage, and punched the dashboard for good measure.

Sam was staring at me worriedly. I glanced at him for only a moment before dropping my forehead against the dashboard. "What was that about?"

"I was supposed to be home an hour ago." I let out a slow breath. "...I have to show you something. I need you to promise you won't freak out." He nodded quickly and I raised my hand. "I mean it. This isn't something I wanted anyone to know about, and you need to  _swear_ you're not going to freak out. Okay?" I waited for his confirmation before hauling my ankle up into my lap and digging the old multi-tool out of my pocket. Sam made a squeaky noise when I flipped open the knife. I rolled my pant leg up enough to expose my ankle bracelet. Sam's mouth dropped open in my peripheral vision. It was almost humorous, and I almost smiled. Instead, I tucked the sharpened blade under the plastic strap and started cutting.

"Two years ago I was arrested and tried as an adult," I started briskly, refusing to get my emotional about it. Facts, that's it. "My Uncle was charged too. It wasn't anything serious, but He's in prison right now. I got early parole for good behavior, but they slapped this on my ankle to keep me in line." The last of the plastic gave, and the little electronic box on the anklet started giving off a high-pitched keen. I winced and tossed the whole thing out the window. "Get as far as you can as fast as you can- if they weren't searching, they will be soon."

The car obediently sped up, swerving around a few cars as we pulled out towards the emptier roads.

"D-do I even want to know what you were charged with?"

"It doesn't matter- everyone overreacted. It wasn't anything big. We just- we stole a couple of cars- not even expensive ones, not some rich guy's Porsche or anything- they just gave us the shaft because they thought Uncle was involved with the gangs, and we couldn't afford a good lawyer to prove he wasn't."

Sam did not look appeased. The radio played a music clip, something about the sky, and I leaned against the window. Above, four meteors shot through the sky, blazing in the atmosphere. The car rolled to a stop at the edge of a levee, and gently urged us out by opening the doors. I slowly stood, edging toward the fence as the meteors came closer, then whipped past, close enough that I could make out the smooth flowing shapes carved into the sides. One crashed almost directly in front of us, in the dry-grass-coated dirt beyond the fence.

The meteor started to shift, and I realized belatedly that it wasn't a meteor, or carved- it was a giant metal pod. The metals shifted elegantly, and after a moment, they formed a humanoid shape that quickly straightened to it's feet. It glanced our way with bright blue eyes, which promptly widened. It took a shuffling step away, then turned and ran towards the woods, and the freeway on the other side of them. A brief moment of worry- did it know it was running towards a potential death trap?- before I remembered- it was a giant metal robot. The odds of it being in danger from a bunch of cars was minimal.

I quickly returned to the car and dropped into the passenger seat. He revved his engine to hurry Sam into the driver's seat. We had barely closed the doors before he was off again, tearing along the roads towards some unknown destination. I could feel his excitement, like it was vibrating through the seats.

We got a bit of air off a speed bump, and I grinned, holding onto the seat with one hand to keep from bouncing too much.

All too soon, we were slowing down, pulling into an alleyway almost too small for the Camaro to fit through. He came to a stop in a slightly more open area, blocked off by buildings, and when the doors opened we both climbed out. Within a minute, four more vehicles were pulling in from other alleys connected to it. A sleek silver number, definitely something expensive; a yellow-green hummer- was that a search and rescue vehicle? A black truck- GMC the grill proclaimed proudly. And, last to come to a stop, an absolutely gorgeous semi. It took a moment, but the body style was familiar even though the paint wasn't- A Peterbilt 379. My dad owned one- it was what he'd traded the Mach Titan he owned when we moved in for when I was still in middle school.

At some unspoken order, all five vehicles started shifting, growing. I felt my eyes widen like a kid in a candy store, turning slowly to watch them all transforming, catching snippets of each before turning to the next. By gods, they were  _incredible._ There were several contented noises that weaved through the hisses and clinks of the metal shifting, and after a moment, five pairs of blue eyes were trained on Sam and I, glancing back and forth.

The semi-robot knelt down in front of us, focusing us in a regal stare. "Are you Samuel Witwicky, descendant of Archibald Witwicky?" Sam squeaked out a confirmation. I muttered to myself. "I am Optimus Prime. We are Autonomous Robotic Organisms from the planet Cybertron."

"You can call us Autobots." I whipped my head around towards the search-and-rescue-robot. His (did they have he's and she's?) face twisted a bit. Smiling, I realized. Sort of like I was. But less psychotically and more calm.

Optimus Prime was speaking again. I turned back, watching him motion to the silver bot, who dropped to a knee. "What's crackin' little Bitches?"

"My First Lieutenant, Jazz."

He jumped up, spinning around in air to land on an old, battered car like I flopped on the couch. "This looks like a cool place to Kick it."

I made an embarrassing squeaky sound. "That was neat."

Jazz grinned and jerked his chin towards me. "Do it with Style, or don't bother doin' it."

"What-How- How did he learn to talk like that?" Sam sputtered, subconsciously edging closer to my side.

"We have learned Earth's languages through the World Wide Web." Optimus explained. I poorly stifled a snort. He waved his hand towards the GMC. "My Weapons Specialist, Ironhide."

The words registered in the same moment the stocky bot flicked his arms and brought out a pair of huge cannons, one glowing orange-red, one glowing blue. I made another squeaky-purr noise. "You feelin' Lucky, Punks?"

Optimus warned him against it while I giggled next to Sam. "So neeeeat!"

"Our Medical Officer, Ratchet." I turned excitedly to the search-and-rescue, who seemed to be sniffing the air.

He fixed us with a puzzled gaze. "The boy's pheromone levels suggest he wants to  _mate_  with the female."

I snorted hard, turning away from them both and fighting back laughter. Sam was stuttering behind me about how it was a lie, and babbling excuses for what the Hummer might be confusing himself on. Optimus made a worried noise when I doubled over, shaking and holding my breath. I waved him off, then straightened out and took a deep breath. Still smiling, I assured him I was fine. "Please," I urged, biting my lip, "Continue."

His face furrowed a bit, but nonetheless he rumbled on. "You've already met your Guardian, Bumblebee."

Said bot immediately started bouncing, playing a snippet of a rap song over his speakers and throwing a couple mock punches.  _"Check on the rep- Yep- Second to None!"_

Sam smiled a bit. "So you're my guardian?" Bee chirped happily.

"His Vocal Processors were damaged in battle," Ratchet explained, aiming a wrist laser at his neck. Bee coughed like an engine trying to start and glared at the medic. "I'm still working on them."

I smiled a bit more, then slowly turned to Optimus. "Why are you here?"

"We are here looking for the Allspark," He rumbled, then added gravely, "And we must find it before Megatron."

"Mega-what?" Sam Parroted.

Optimus reached up to his temple- for a moment, I thought it was in exasperation, but then thin beams of light shot from his eyes. He turned his gaze to the ground between us, and suddenly the ground was shattering, falling apart under our feet. I quickly side-stepped closer to Sam. Optimus' deep bass voice seemed like it was surrounding us now.

"Our world was once a Powerful Empire, peaceful and just. Until... we were betrayed, by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. All who defied them were destroyed." As he spoke, the... Hologram? showed a single bot escaping over a craggy surface, glancing around like it was paranoid. It zoomed out just in time to show a larger bot throw a strange spear. The smaller escapee was run through. I flinched. "Our war finally consumed the planet, and the Allspark was jettisoned and lost to the stars. Megatron followed it to Earth, Where Captain Archibald Witwicky discovered him."

"My Grandfather," Sam Muttered.

Optimus nodded. "It was an accident that intertwined our fates," He continued quietly. "Megatron crash landed before he could retrieve the cube. Your Ancestor accidentally activated his navigational system. The cube's coordinates were imprinted on his glasses, and his mind."

"How did you know about his glasses?" Sam looked away from the fading hologram and up at the regal bot expectantly.

Said bot calmly answered, "EBay."

"EBay." Sam sighed and let his head drop.

"If the Decepticons locate the Allspark, they will use its power to transform Earth's machines, and create a new army," Ratchet explained.

"And the Human Race will be extinguished." Optimus finished seriously. "Samuel Witwicky, You hold the Key to Earth's survival."

My stomach promptly dropped to my knees. "Sam," I managed, "You still have those glasses... right?"

After a moment, he breathed. "Yeah. They're at home."

"Then Let's go." I declared. "We have no idea how close the Decepticons are to finding the Allspark- We've gotta go, and fast."

"I could not agree more," Optimus stated. "Autobots, Roll Out!"

All together, the five robots started to Transform. I tugged Sam along by the arm and loaded into Bumblebee. In seconds the streets were flying by. I shuffled a bit in the passenger seat, watching streetlights and signs flash by.

"You seem like you're taking this really well."

I glanced at Sam as we passed under a light, His face bright yellow before going almost black. "I think I've had… Five adrenaline rushes since lunch, and I'm still not entirely sure this isn't a dream, so I mean, either this is the calm before I completely lose my shit, or I'm going to wake up and think to myself, Wow, that dream was goddamn crazy."

He nodded slowly. "...It makes sense when you put it like that."

When we finally pulled in, Sam and I both swung out of the Camero. Sam was talking again in seconds. "I need you to stay here-"

"What? No, I'm not-"

"-and keep an eye on them-"

"-I'm not going to stay here-"

"-you hear me, all of them-"

"-I'm not some princess who needs protecting-"

"-Angel, how am I supposed to explain you being here to my Parents?"

I stared him down. "Maybe, I don't know, you could tell them that I'm here to help with the car? Or that I'm here to tutor you? Make something up?"

He stared back, opening his mouth to argue, then stopped. "...That's actually a good idea."

I nodded mockingly. "Yeah, you know, I get those sometimes."

He raised his hands. "Can you just- Tone down the- the sarcasm?"

"You're so... bad at lying." I rolled my eyes and turned to the Autobots. "Guys, you need to stay here. Five giant robots are more than enough to cause problems. Just give us ten minutes, I promise, we'll have the glasses, we'll come back and... Handle things as they go. Okay?" There was a silence that greeted me. "Guys, I really need you to promise me that you're going to stay here."

"We will give you your ten minutes, but please, hurry." Optimus' voice seemed to rumble straight from the grill. I nodded and started pulling Sam along again.

We stumbled up to the door right as Mr. Witwicky got to it and started pushing it open. I smiled. "Hey, Mr. Witwicky! I'm sorry I kept Sam out so late- I was helping him fix up the Camaro and we got distracted."

He sighed back at me. "I wish I could say I was surprised. Hey, come on in. You look exhausted- do you always get so dirty working on cars?" I shrugged at him as we shuffled past into the little entry way. "Your Mom made dinner, Sam. Help yourselves."

I perked up. "Food? Sounds great."

Two minutes later, I was scarfing down a plate of meatloaf while Sam dug through his backpack. "Your Mom makes some great meatloaf."

"Got 'em!" He grinned, pulling a small leather pouch from his bag. He dumped the spectacles into his hand and sighed, like he'd just defused a bomb.

"Sam? Sam, Mojo has been barking at us for hours now-" A red-haired woman walked in as she was talking, then looked up and stopped, looking at me. "Oh. Hi! Oh wow, Sammy, she is- You are gorgeous."

I fought a smile and nodded. "Thank you. You make some really great meatloaf, Mrs. Witwicky."

"Oh, thank you!" Sam babbled at her for a moment, and by the time she was leaving the room, I had finished snarfing my food.

"Alright, let's get those glasses to the Autobots." I stood, rinsing my plate off and setting it in the sink. Sam lead the way out of the kitchen, toward the living room, then suddenly stopped near the bottom of the stairs.

Men in suits were investigating the house. My eyes widened. Without a second thought, I snatched the glasses out of Sam's hand and tugged the neck of my shirt out, shoving them down in my cleavage. Best place to stash things you wanna protect. Sam hissed at me, even as one of the agents focused on us and smiled. "Hey there, son. Is your name Sam?"

"...Yeah?"

"Well, I'm going to need you to come with me-"

He reached out to grab Sam by the arm and I slapped his hand away, snarling. "Don't  _fucking_ touch him! You're not police and you don't have a warrant, you've got no right to do this so why don't you get the fuck out?"

He gave me some odd face that looked like he practiced it in the mirror- no emotions at all, like he was bored. "Miss, I will only warn you once. Do not assault me. I am carrying a loaded weapon."

"Do I look like I give a fuck about your gun? I'll fuck you up asshole, you're trespassing and I've got  _rights_!"

He huffed in irritation, completely ignoring Mr. Witwicky backing me on our rights as citizens, and grabbed my arm. I swung the other arm and punched him in the face, and when he stumbled I kicked as hard as I could. Several men flinched as he fell to the ground, then I was shoved against a wall, swearing while I was handcuffed and aggressively wiggling my arms. The cuffer didn't notice I managed to get his to close them around the heel of my hands instead of my wrists.  _Fucking Ametures._

The Agent I'd assaulted stumbled to his feet. I noticed he was struggling to breathe, clutching at his crotch, and silently applauded myself. "You... little...  _bitch..._ "

Another agent stopped him before he could hobble too close, holding a strange device in hand, and muttered something under his breath. The first looked at him in either surprise or shock before looking back at us. After another few seconds, he managed to straighten up almost completely upright. He took the handheld machine and moved towards us, waving the wand over each of us in turn, smirk growing. "Fourteen Rads. Bingo." He turned away, stumbling down the stairs. "Tag 'em and Bag 'em."

Sam and his parents were cuffed in a much less violent manner than I was, then each of us was half dragged out the door. Ron was yelling- "Don't say anything- not until we get a lawyer!"- as he and Judy were loaded into a sedan, which immediately took off. Sam and I were loaded into another sedan. The agent I'd abused- Simmons- hauled himself into the front seat, and we were off as well.

We were a few blocks along before he started talking. "So. LadiesMan217." He dumped a cellphone into his hand from an evidence bag, then turned in his seat. "That is your EBay Username, right?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Shit, Mine's 'ThatOneBadassBitch,' I think he's got me beat." The driver snorted.

Simmons pressed a couple buttons and started playing a recording. Sam's recording. "That you?"

Sam stuttered for a moment.

Simmons continued. "Last night at the station, you told officers your car, Transformed." He glared over his shoulder. "Enlighten me."

"See, Here's what I said, okay? Cause this is- a total misunderstanding."

I cut Sam off as he started babbling. "It was my fault, really. I picked up the car so I could make sure it was running right- we got it from Bobby Bolivia's used car lot, you might wanna check on him by the way- and Sam freaked out, thinking it was being stolen. He chased me to the Junkyard, where he managed to sneak up on me. I panicked and gave him a taste of fist, knocked him on the head pretty hard- I'm pretty sure he hit some concrete chunks when he hit the ground. When he got up, he was clearly delusional, and I was going to lead him back to the car and get him home, but the police showed up, and I freaked and ran. I wouldn't be surprised if Sam hallucinated that the sky was falling-"

"Alright, you, in the skimpy top? Don't test me. Especially with your Uncle's Parole coming up."

My chest iced from the inside. "How the hell-?"

"Oh, you don't like that, do you? Oh yeah. You're already on parole, you little criminal- There's a lot of people looking for you, since you lost the anklet."

Sam muttered, "You said it was no big deal, Angel-"

"No big deal? Grand Theft Auto, that's no big deal? How about the four counts of murder they had on him, and the three they had on you-"

" _They never proved that!"_ I shouted, lurching forward towards him. My hands jerked at the handcuffs. Simmons had a look of satisfaction on his face. "You better pray I never get loose around you. I swear to every god in existence, I'll kill you-  _I'll fucking murder you, you piece of shit. I'll rip you to pieces- they'll never find your body when I'm through with you-"_ As I swore at him, I wormed my arms around behind me, working my hands out of the cuffs.

"You see this?" He pulled out what looked like a wallet and flipped it open. "This is a 'do whatever I want and get away with it' badge. I will lock you up- Forever!" One hand free... then the other... "It is time to talk-!"

I threw my hands forward, grabbing him around the throat and slamming his face against the console full force, screaming expletives as the driver swerved across the road, eventually managing to elbow me in the face. I flopped back in the seat for a moment, then lurched at him again, fumbling with the front of his uniform and yanking him around until I managed to find the handcuff keys, then flopping back again.

Simmons fixed me with an enraged glare, starting to growl some insult. The machine he'd tossed on the console started going haywire. Something large took place in front of the sedan.

The crash was over in a second. I blinked away the slight pain where my face had connected with back of Simmons' seat. A bright light was shining through the windshield, and everyone was screaming, then suddenly thick metal fingers were crashing through the sides of the car, lifting it off the ground. Sam started shrieking- I grabbed him by the shoulder and shouted for him to shut up, pushing him sideways so I could get at his handcuffs. They were off less than a second before we started falling, the roof ripping away from the weight.

Optimus turned off the lights on his chest, tossing away said roof. Sam was growling beside me. "You a-holes are in trouble now. I'd like you gentlemen to meet my friend... Optimus Prime."

"Taking the children was a bad move." The semi rumbled. Men rushed out of the vehicles behind us, aiming automatic rifles at the Autobot leader. "Autobots," he ordered sternly, "Relieve them of their weapons."

Ironhide shuffled closer from one side, cannons out and whirring dangerously and shouting "Don't move!" Jazz swung in from the other side, extending a clawed four-digit hand. It spun for a moment as he growled out "Gimme those!" In seconds, the agents weapons had all been ripped from their hands and gathered in his. I had never dreamed I would feel safer with giant robots looming over me, but I supposed weirder things had happened.

Simmons was repeating a mantra of "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" until Optimus knelt in front of us, irritation clear in his face. He swallowed thickly. "...Hi there!"

"You don't seem afraid. Are you not surprised to see us?"

Simmons stuttered. "Look, see, there are S-Seven Protocols, right? I'm not allowed to communicate with you except to tell you I can't communicate-"

"Get out of the car."

He paled considerably. "Alright, yeah... Me? You want, Me, to get out-"

"NOW," the massive bot snarled, engine revving angrily.

Simmons was babbling again as he and the other agent started clambering over the ripped-in-half doors. "Alright, Alright, we're getting out, see? Getting out. That was a nifty trick, you putting us down without killing us..."

I hopped over the edge, adjusting my feet on the step-up and offering my hand to Sam to help him over. He stared at me. "So you're good with handcuffs, too?"

I ground my teeth. "You were supposed to hear that much detail."

"Murder? You're a  _murderer?_ Your Uncle is in Prison for  _Murder?"_

With an angry grunt, I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him out of the sedan, holding him while he stumbled, then dropping down beside him. Before he could keep babbling, I shoved him back against the trashed car. "Look, Sam," I growled out. "They got us on Grand Theft. I will admit to that. We stole a lot of cars, yes, fine, I'll admit it. But they didn't have any proof that I was a murderer, or that he was." He opened his mouth again. "The only reason I was in jail at all is because I wouldn't give them that evidence. They offered me a deal, Sam- They wanted me to sell him out. If I testified, and told the courts 'yes, he killed people, he sold drugs, he stole cars, I only went along because I was  _scared,'_  I would get off free and clear, and he'd get Prison, fifty years to life. I have a record because I wouldn't do that. Because I'm not going to let my family take the fall to save my own ass. I lost a year and a half of my life, I lost him for four to six- I lost my Mickie, because I wouldn't squeal." I took a step back, shaking my head. "When have you ever had to give up anything? When has your life been anything but good?"

He didn't reply as I turned to walk away, and I felt that was a good enough answer.


	5. Everything Hurts

Sam lingered beside the de-roofed sedan while I marched myself towards the agents- specifically, Simmons and his driver. I shoved the latter aside so I could confront the biggest asshole. "Alright wise guy, what the hell is Sector Seven? What do you want with us?"

He sneered, adjusting his jacket. "I'm the one who asks the questions around here, young lady-"

I grabbed his wrist and spun, twisting it back and up and forcing it straight. He scrunched up, an automatic response to try to take pressure off the limb, and made a noise of pain. I hadn't used a move like that in more than a year- good to know I still could. "How did you know about the Aliens?"

"You- you touch me- that's a federal offense-!" He was gasping out. I grabbed him around the knee and flipped him over his twisted arm. He landed face-first with a huff, and I dropped a knee on his back, still pulling his arm back.

"I don't think you're getting anywhere with that, asshole. What is Sector Seven?" I growled again, pulling his arm farther in threat.

He keened for a moment, then barked out, "brave with your big alien friends over there, eh?"

Irritated, I released his arm and stood. When he started to roll over, I took a shot and kicked him in the sternum.  _Stupid son of a bitch... alright, calm, think... can't let them call in, or we won't make it anywhere._ I whistled to get everyone's attention. "Alright, you dumb fucks. Line up on the curb- Keep your hands up by your ears, where I can see them, or You'll eat concrete, got it?" Sam finally started to make his way over, not that I was particularly interested in talking to him at the moment. I fished the glasses out of my shirt and held them out as soon as he was in range. "Here. Give this to Optimus while I deal with them."

He looked at me for a moment, like he wanted to say something, then nodded, taking the glasses and jogging off towards Optimus. I started going along the line, pulling handcuffs out of pockets and cuffing the agents together, taking phones and chucking them across the street. I elbowed a few in the ribs when they refused to keep their hands up, but I only really hit two, just because they were still trying to act tough. At the end of the line, the agent who had driven us here had his hands behind his back. I growled. "I told you, hands where I can see them, fucknuts." I yanked his arms to bring his hands around to his front and felt my heart skip a beat- an open cell phone, mid-call. I dropped it on the ground and smashed it under my heel. The agent made a whine. "You son of a  _bitch!"_ I promptly kicked him in the nuts, following up with a knee to the face when he dropped. I slapped the cuffs on him, dragged Simmons over to the lamppost and cuffed him around it, then cuffed the line of agents to him. Before I fully turned around, I kicked Simmons again just for the satisfaction of watching him fall. Petty, yes. Unnecessary, as well.

But there was just something obscenely satisfying about seeing people you don't like suffer.

I jogged towards the Autobots, trying to get back on track. "Guys, we gotta take off- one of the agents had a cellphone out, and I don't know who he called or when they'll be here but we can't stay put-"

Optimus was dispatching the team before I'd finished. He crouched down and held out his hand. "Up you get," He rumbled. Sam pulled himself up, then, to my surprise, offered me a hand up. Optimus brought us up to his shoulder, urging us to hold on tight as he started running. It was a bit like a mechanical bull crossed with a racecar ride at three stories up. So exciting but also terrifying because  _holy shit._  A herd of sedans and SUV's were coming our way, I realized, now that I was so high up. Optimus dodged between buildings with a surprising amount of grace for a giant metal being, ducking through alleys and hurrying across roads. Over the whirr and hiss of hydraulics and gears, I heard a choppy sound. Seconds later, spotlights lit us up. I swore, and Optimus made a strange noise that sounded irritated.

It took almost half an hour, but Optimus managed to worm out from under the light, swinging under a bridge and supporting himself among the girders. "Easy, you two," he rumbled quietly as we adjusted to the angle. Sam slowly pulled himself towards a higher point. I reached out to help haul him up as a pair of helicopters swept under the bridge. My heart thudded in my chest. He smiled up at me.

Then he lost his footing.

I lurched forward, grabbing his forearm and bracing myself against Optimus's armor. Sam's weight yanked on my arm and I shouted, feeling my shoes lose grip with every second. "Don't you dare let go!" I pulled, trying to get him close enough to Optimus' shoulder that he could get a grip again. The pain in my shoulder and arm increased, especially the one that had been dislocated earlier that day. My hips ached and my legs strained to keep my feet in contact- even my back burned with effort. Sam kicked out, shoe touching the metal, and reached out with his free hand. Not quite close enough.

My foot slipped, and just like that we were falling. Optimus swung his feet towards us with a grunt. We hit it hard, and I felt Sam's arm slip out of my grip. I screamed, clenching my eyes shut.

I landed on something hard, but instead of splattering on the concrete and losing all awareness of everything like I expected, the surface dipped, taking my momentum away. I forced my eyes open to see Bumblebee holding me a couple feet above the ground as he spun and slid, Sam in his other hand. I could hear the choppers closing in as he set us down. We were alive, but not even close to safe. I screamed at him, shoving at his arm very ineffectively. "Run! Go, Bee, Get out of here! Go!"

He started to straighten out, then a hook shot through his wrist. I shrieked.

Another hook in his other wrist, then one in his ankle, and with a pull they flipped him, dropping him to the ground on his front. I ran towards him, pulling at the hook, trying to get it out. His whirrs and clicks echoed around us, amplified in the drainage ditch, full of pain and fear.

A voice was shouting over a loudspeaker, ordering us down on the ground. Sam started running towards Bee and I, only to be tackled. I was ripped away from Bumblebee and thrown to the ground, people bustling around me. Despite my struggling and wild swings, I was cuffed again, too tightly, digging into my wrists, and hauled upright by my arms, making my already-abused shoulders hurt more. Bumblebee jerked his head around in a panic, trying to find someone.

When he looked to me, I twisted hard, trying to get out of their grip. What I was going to do with my hands behind me and no way to get the hooks out, I can't begin to imagine, but they held fast, so it wouldn't matter anyway. I shouted, again, "I won't leave you, Bee! I won't leave you!"

He whirred sadly as the humans around him sprayed him with liquid nitrogen. His movements slowed, grew jerky, then stopped completely. I thrashed in the grip of the agents hauling me around, twisting and jerking and screaming until he stopped.

I was hauled more upright in front of Simmons, who had a bit of bruising peering out of the edges of his shirt and some hastily wiped-up blood on his lip. He smirked at me despite. "Miss me?" I fucking hated that face. He addressed the agents. "Put her in the car with her little boyfriend."

Before they could move me a step, I threw myself at him and slammed my head into his face with a wordless yell. I felt a line of pain on the edge of my scalp, then a light trickle of warm, sticky wet. Maybe I knocked a couple of his teeth out, I hoped darkly. I was shoved along again before I could see, but I could hear him swearing and cursing me as I was stuffed in the back seat of yet another sedan, beside Sam once again. It wasn't until the car was moving and Sam mentioned it that I realized I was crying. I shrugged, mumbling something about blood in my eye.

Everything was sore. I leaned forward and rested my head against the back of the drivers seat, the cool leather a slight relief to my head. My shoulders burned, and my hips ached, sometimes prickling with sharp pain if I shifted wrong. It even hurt to breathe- probably a side effect from hitting Optimus' foot and being caught by solid metal hands. I really wished I had my meds, for a moment, but reasoned that the pain was preferable to the dizzy looseness painkillers gave me. The ride was silent, until the radio hissed static, then declared, "Change of Plans. Straight to Sector Seven, Level Six Authorization."

The driver adjusted their course immediately. We rolled to a stop at an airport, where we were hauled from the sedan and carted towards a helicopter. Another man in a suit stopped us, barking orders for our 'guards' to remove our handcuffs, which they did none too quickly, or very gently. I winced as my arms sprung back around, the burning ticking up in my shoulders before fading again. I glared at the new suit darkly and followed Sam to the helicopter- I suspected he wasn't doing any of this for our benefit. A man in army gear directed us on how to fasten ourselves into the seats, then we were lifting off the ground and the airport was fading away. I stared for a few minutes, longing- I'd wanted to be a pilot most of my life, and in other circumstances this might have been a kind of dream come true, but barely more than a captive with a friend probably dying(how strange that I was already considering the giant robots my friends, when I'd known Sam for years and only recently started considering him a friend) while also held captive by the same people very much bittered the experience.

Across from us were a pretty blonde and a thick-set black man, who stared at us incredulously when I finally turned back from the door. The blonde coughed and offered me a handkerchief. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "We crashed a sedan," I hollered over the wind and motors, pressing the handkerchief to the newest cut on my forehead casual as could be. "And then I head-butted a guy in the teeth. He was an asshole." I licked the tail of the handkerchief and lightly rubbed at the itchy spots on my face. It came away marred with dirt and blood, and I grimaced.

She smile-grimaced in return. "You can keep it, love."

The black man asked conversationally, "So what are you in for?"

Sam shrugged. "I bought a car. Turned out to be an alien Robot." The man's face went slack and he finished, "Who knew?"

I leaned back in my seat, wilting. My shoulders ached, my back felt seriously misaligned, my hips felt like they'd been ground away. Though my head wasn't bleeding anymore, it throbbed angrily. I was even  _more sore_ now that I'd had a chance to rest. I hadn't felt this bad since the accident that'd fucked up my right side.

Eventually the helicopter landed, and we were ushered into more black SUV's for a short trip over the hoover dam, then dragged out to talk with Simmons-  _Again with this asshole, could someone just break his face already_ \- this time with a different guy at his side. A group of soldiers were standing at attention behind him, looking at someone behind us. I glanced over my shoulder and belatedly recognized the Secretary of Defense.

Simmons smiled coyly at Sam. "Hey, Son. I think we got off to a rough start. You hungry?" He rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You want a latte, a hoho, a double venti macchiato-?"

"Where's my car?" He barked flatly. Simmons smile soured.

The other agent stepped closer. "Son," he started placatingly, "I need you to listen to me very carefully. People could die here. We need to know everything you know, and we need to know it now."

"Alright," Sam nodded quickly. "But first, I want my car, my parents... Maybe you should write this down."

I huffed a vague laugh and nudged him with my elbow. "I think I'm rubbing off on you," I croaked.

"And her criminal record," He declared suddenly, "That has to be gone. Like, Forever. And her Uncle needs to be released, too."

I stared at him for several seconds. He didn't meet my gaze.

The second agent sighed and waved us along. "Come with me, we'll talk about your car." He sounded extraordinarily calm. I followed him and Sam, tying the ends of my borrowed handkerchief around my head to free up my hands. "Tom Banachek, Sector Seven Liaison."

Our entire group- Sec Def Keller, the two techies, the entire troop of soldiers, Simmons, Banachek, Sam and I- was herded into the dam, down flights of stairs, where Simmons started talking. "Here's the situation. You have all had contact with the NBE's-"

"NBE's?" A soldier clarified.

"Non-biological Extraterrestrials. Try to keep up with the acronyms." I huffed irritably. "What you are about to see is highly classified."

He pushed open a door and I hissed, heart leaping to my throat.  _Megatron. Megatron is being kept in the Hoover Dam. What the actual Fuck-_

The Sec Def ahead of us gasped. "Good god... What is that?"

"We think, when he made his approach over the North pole, our gravitational fields screwed up his telemetry." Banachek explained. "He crashed in the ice, probably a few thousand years ago. We shipped him to this facility in 1935."

"We call him NBE-One," Simmons gloated. I scoffed. He fixed me with a glare. "What?"

"Well, I don't mean to correct you on everything you think you know," I started, wishing I didn't sound as scratchy and groggy as I did but putting on my best posh attitude despite, "but that's Megatron. He's the leader of the Decepticons." I smiled sweetly at him before asking, "How's your teeth?"

He puffed up. I mumbled an insult. Banachek replied instead. "He's been in cryostasis since his crash." He turned to Sam seriously. "Your Great-great grandfather? He made one of the greatest discoveries in the history of mankind." Sam smiled a bit, gazing up at the giant, spiky robot.

"Fact is, you're looking at the source of the modern age." Simmons strolled closer. "Microchips, lasers, spaceflight, cars, all reverse-engineered, by studying him. NBE-One." He leaned over in my face. " _That's_ what we call it." I was tempted to spit in his face. The biggest obstacle was my lack of spit. I  _really needed a drink._

The Secdef moved in and caught him by the shoulder. "And you didn't think the United State military needed to know you were keeping a hostile alien robot in the basement?"

"Until these recent events, we had no credible threat to national security." Banachek explained in his calm voice.

"Well you've got one now," Keller growled.

One of the soldiers spoke up next- LENNOX, his name patch read. "So why earth?"

"The Allspark," I stated, staring up at Megatron. Even though he was frozen, and his eyes- did they call them eyes?- were dark, I felt as though he was watching me. (they were an entire alien race, they probably had unique words for everything, there was no reason they would use the same words as a completely different species- even humans had a bunch of languages and words for things, that was weird to even think about)

"Allspark?" Keller clarified.

"Yeah. They came here after a cube that holds the power to either restore their planet or cause incalculable chaos. Mr. NBE-One here, AKA Megatron," I drawled, smirking at Simmons, "That's his name, is more or less the Harbinger of death, leader of the Decepticons, who want to use the Allspark for their own selfish needs- including using it to create an army out of Earth's machines, destroy the human race, rule their currently dead planet and conquer the universe. That's their plan, and the Autobots- the good guys, who you very recently tried to murder, including Optimus Prime, who saved us from being taken against our will and locked up forever, And Bumblebee, who sacrificed himself to your disgusting need to treat them like dangerous animals to keep Sam and I from dying because your helicopters knocked us loose from under the bridge, are determined to get to the Allspark first so they can keep it away from the Decepticons until their war is over, then return to their home world and bring it back to life so they can return to their lives and restore a peaceful existence." I paused and glanced around. "Any questions?"

"You're sure that's their plans?" Simmons bluntly asked. He glared at me like this was my fault. I nodded, watching him exchange a look with Banachek. They both shuffled awkwardly.

"...You know where it is," Sam spoke up from just a few steps behind me.

Banachek stared us down, then nodded. "Follow me."


	6. Family First

We obediently shuffled after Banachek and Simmons like a little herd of sheep. The Secdef was closest behind them, Sam, Maggie, Glen and I a step of two back and the soldiers half around us and half mixed in. Someone nudged my arm; I turned to see the blonde soldier from earlier- Lennox. He nudged me again, and I glanced down to see he was offerint me his canteen. "You sound like you need it," he added when I took it. I smiled in thanks and took a long drink.

Mother of mercy, it was even still cold.  _So. Nice._

I tried to hand it back, but he waved me off, so I offered it to Sam, who took an even longer drink than I did.

"So," I started quietly. My throat felt better, and my voice was much less scratchy.  _Good_. Lennox glanced at me. "Sam and I are here because we were helping the Autobots. Maggie and... Glenn, I think, they're here because they can decipher Cybertronian. Secdef is here because he's the Secretary of Defense. How'd you guys get roped into this?"

He appraised me as we passed through a door. "Me and my team survived an attack on the base we were at. I'm assuming that was a 'Decepticon' attack?"

I nodded. "Probably. You guys must be good- I've only seen one Decepticon- well, two, it you count the minibot that tried to kill Sam- and I wouldn't want to take it on even if I had the entire Army backing me."

He made a huffy noise that might have counted as a laugh. "Thanks. I'm sure the guys will appreciate the compliment."

"You are about to see our Crown Jewel," Simmons declared dramatically, standing in front of a door and effectively silencing all our smaller conversations. When he was sure we were all paying attention, he shoved it open and waved us inside. My jaw went slack.

In the midst of crews of scientists and hydraulic lifts and scaffolding, surrounded by concrete and spotlights, sat the Allspark. It was astounding, not only in the intricacy of the circling, swirling picture-words carved into it surface, or in the waves of electricity that slowly rolled across it's surface, but in sheer size and mass- it would have easily fit Sam's house within it several times over.

"Carbon dating puts the Cube here around 10,000 BC." I couldn't even glance at Banachek, stepping closer to the window separating us from the Allspark. It held an aura of noble power, some profound wisdom echoing in it that drew me in, like a grandfather telling stories about growing up in the great depression with newspaper in his shoes. "The First Seven didn't find it until 1913. They knew it was alien because of the matching hieroglyphics on the cube and NBE-One. President Hoover had the dam built around it. Four football fields thick of concrete. A perfect way to hide its energy from anyone or any alien species on the outside."

"Hold on," Maggie started, waving him to stop. "You say the Dam hides the cubes energy?" Her eyes sparkled. "What kind of energy?"

"A good question." Banachek smiled and turned on the spot. "Follow me."

I was the last to leave, looking over my shoulder at the cube as I followed the group out. It didn't say anything or give me some subliminal message, but it felr like walking away from a great movie in the middle of the climax. One thing was clear though-  _We need to get to Bumblebee._ I hurried up beside Simmons and Banachek. "You guys, you need to take us to Bumblebee. Now. We don't have time for a grand tour, or a field trip, or whatever the hell you're calling this mess. Bumblebee knows what to do with the Allspark, and if we don't get it taken care of before the Decepticons find out where it is-"

Simmons pushed me back with a hand on my chest. "We don't need a little girl telling us what needs to be done."

I stared at him hard. "I suggest you remove your hand from my person before I shatter every bone in it." He quickly turned away, taking his hand with him. "That's what I fuckin' thought. Banachek, please listen to me-"

"Not now, Miss. We'll handle it soon."

I huffed. Being brushed off by someone who already hated me wasn't a big deal. Being brushed off by the sensible one of the two was frustrating.

"Please, step inside. They have to lock us in." I shied back from the large, thick metal door. Being locked in was not something I'd agreed to, I did not like locked doors, no no no-. Sam grabbed my shoulder, giving me an encouraging nod.  _The things I do for you, kid._ I grimaced, but didn't complain when I stepped through the door.

One of the soldiers whistled as he looked at the wall, where deep slashes and gouges sank through the metal. "Been keepin' Freddy Kruger up in here?"

Glen shook his head. "Naw, man, Freddy had four claws- that's only three, that's Wolverine, Eh? Right?" He glanced around, like he was expecting someone to back him up. "That's Wolverine..." I almost felt bad about not agreeing- X-men was great- but this just was not a good time for references.

"That's very funny." Simmons deadpanned. "Anyone have an electronics on them? Blackberry, Key Alarm, cell phone?"

Glen offered up his phone. "I've got a phone."

"Ooh, Nokia's are real nasty." Simmons flipped the phone open, setting it on a platform inside a glass box in the center of the room like it might explode. "Gotta respect the Japanese. They know the way Of the Samurai."

Maggie frowned. "The Nokia's from Finland."

"I know, But he's, uh..." Keller glanced at him as he passed out goggles, then finished, "Little strange. He's a little strange. Shh."

"Goggles on please." A moment for everyone to obey. "We are able to take the cube's radiation, and funnel it into that box." Simmons flipped a switch, and a huge blast of light filled the box. The phone started tremoring, then shattered into a tiny bot, turning in a circle rapidly, eyes huge and staring.

The others squealed as it launched itself into the glass. I pulled off my goggles and leaned closer. "Hey, hey, it's alright, it's alright. God you look so cool."

"That thing is freaky!" Maggie exploded.

"It's terrified!" I corrected. I turned back to see it staring at me between rapid glances around the room. "It's okay," I cooed, "It's okay. Let it out, you're scaring it more!" I ordered the agents.

"I don't think so," Simmons sneered. "That things like a little energizer bunny from hell." The bot shook for a moment, shrinking in on itself, then formed a small gun and started shooting at the glass. He launched again at the sides, landing on his back and spinning from the force. When it was back on it's feet, it curled in on itself, tiny metal head whipping around before I tried again.

"Simmons, it's trapped in a strange place, it's got no idea what's going on, it's not a demon, it's  _scared-!"_

"Damn it, it's breaking the box!" He cut in. He grabbed a remote and clicked the button on it. With another bright flash of light, the cellphone-bot was dead.

I stared at it. "You  _killed it!"_

"It was a robotic monster!" He growled.

"It was a sentient creature!" I snapped back. "If you woke up, locked in a cage, surrounded by weird things several times your size, what would you have done? Smiled and introduced yourself? No, you would have fought for your life! Why's it so different for them to do it?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then- "How do you know for sure? How do you know it was just scared?" One of the soldiers.

"How- Wh-...Were you even looking at it?" I would have continued, but suddenly an alarm was blaring. The metal and stone surrounding us groaned.

Banachek hit a button for an intercom. "Banachek- What's going on up there?"

" _There are NBE's landing on the dam, Sir! They've opened fire! Some of the generators were hit-"_

"What?!"

_"-and we're losing power everywhere!"_

"They know the cube is here." Keller declared solemnly.

Lennox was in Simmons face in an instant. "Do you have an arms room?"

Simmons didn't even voice an answer- he nodded and started out the door. The rest of us hurried along behind him. Banachek was shouting down the hallway, ordering an evacuation. He was a good man. People were shouting everywhere, running from room to room. We burst into some kind of armory as the lights started to flicker. Nobody wasted a second.

I cornered Simmons against a military-esque jeep. "You have to take us to Bumblebee," I growled. "We have to get him back, or we're dead, do you understand-?"

"The car?" He glanced at Sam a few steps away, then back at me, loading another sabot round. "It's confiscated. I can't do that."

"Well, un-confiscate it! He knows what to do with the cube, he knows how to fight the Decepticons-"

"We don't know what will happen if we let it near this thing!"

"No, You don't know!" I grabbed his shoulder forcing his attention back to me.

"Maybe you know, but I don't know, and I cannot risk things going bad-"

I pulled him forward and slammed him back against the jeep. He winced- I hoped he'd have a hell of a bruise. "You just wanna sit around and see what happens then?!"

"I have people's lives at stake here, young lady-" He shouted back.

I punched him in the jaw. He stumbled against the jeep, tripped up and hit the floor, so I yanked him up and shoved him to the jeep face-first. " _You think I haven't considered them?!"_ I slammed him forward again. "All the people at risk?! The whole fucking world?! They are exactly why we need Bumblebee! You wanna try to fight those things with no backup? Well guess what- The SOCCENT Base tried that, and the only survivors are in this room right now!" I let go, letting him spin back around "We can't do this alone!" I shoved him back again. I heard guns being drawn around the room.

Simmons puffed up. "I am ordering you under S-Seven jurisdiction-"

"S-Seven don't exist!" A soldier shouted out.

"Exactly, and we don't take orders from people who don't exist." Another growled beside me.

"I'm going to count to five-"

A gun was suddenly pressed to his temple. "I'm gonna count to three."

A long moment of silence, then Keller spoke up. "Simmons? I'd do what they say. Losing isn't really an option for these men."

Simmons eyes flickered. "Okay," he relented. "Fine. You wanna put the fate of the world on a kids Camaro? That's cool."

"He's not a kids Camaro," I growled, stepping back so he could stand. "He's an Autonomous Robotic Organism from the Planet Cybertron. And his Name Is Bumblebee."

"You're sure he's safe?" Banachek interjected.

I turned to glare at him. "He willingly gave himself up to save me and Sam. I would trust him with my life a million times over."

He held my gaze for what felt like forever, then finally nodded. "Follow me."

We raced through the halls, faint, muffled whirs and clicks of distress appearing and getting louder as we went along- they hit a crescendo as we burst through a pair of thick heavy doors. I stumbled in horror. Bee was strapped down to a table, still being sprayed with liquid nitrogen, even as several prongs positioned above him let off massive electrical shocks. I screamed, slamming into the back of one of the sprayers, shoving him to the floor. It took Banachek yelling over the ruckus to make them stop.

I hauled myself up onto the platform, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie up so I could lean on Bumblebee's shoulder, mumbling near-hysterically. "Bee, please, please get up, please be okay-!" His optics flickered fully on, then suddenly he was lurching upright, clutching me to his chest while his other hand leveled a canon at the offending agents. He clicked worriedly, glancing down at me and back at them.

I quickly adjusted in his hold. "It's okay Bee- they won't hurt you any more. They're not gonna touch you, I swear. If they do, I'll kill 'em." He whirred again, slowly pulling his canon away. "Look, we can fight them later- The cube is here, and so are the Decepticons. We have to go, now!"

He locked onto me, the mechanics in his eyes swiveling, then nodded. I started pointing him along, deliberately ignoring the terrified, incredulous agents. Bumblebee dutifully followed every turn, avoiding the humans running underfoot, and with his steps taking considerably more space than mine, we were soon standing in awe of the huge cube once again.

Unlike the last time I was near it- behind the thick plate of glass in the observation room- this time the Allspark's aura was palpable, like the air was water. It hummed like static or high humidity, in a way that I could feel it clearly, but I couldn't prove it was there. It was like a buzz in the back of my head. A feeling of presence. Awareness. Wisdom. I glanced up at Bumblebee, wondering if perhaps he felt it too. He glanced down at me, his Optics glowing brightly as he set me down, then looked back up to the cube. His joints whirred quietly as he reached up to it. A bolt of electricity arced to his finger, until he touched the edge. Then, with a loud series of clicks and clangs and clinks it was shrinking, down to half it's size- a quarter- a tiny sliver of what it was, suddenly small enough I could have held it with both hands. The aura pulsed heavily, almost thick enough to choke on, then compressed down like the cube itself had.

Bumblebee held it in one hand, staring down at it reverently. " _Message from Starfleet, Captain,"_ his radio whirred, " _Let's Get to it."_

"He's right," Lennox called out, gathering the attention of everyone present. "If we stay here, we're screwed, with Megatron in the other hanger. Now, Mission City is 22 Miles away, we gotta get the cube out of here, and hide it somewhere in the city-" Keller was at his side, nodding along. Lennox turned to grab his shoulders. "But we can not make a stand without the air force."

Keller jerked around to Simmons. "This place must have radio? Satellite, CB!"

I tapped on Bee's leg, and after glancing down in surprise, he shifted down to his Camaro, popping a door open for me.

A whistle caught Lennox' attention. "Let's get out of here!"

Sam and I loaded into Bumblebee, the rest of the military men following the Cybertronian's fast, sharp turns through the facility to their own vehicles, and eventually out of the dam labs completely. The Allspark had landed in Bumblebee's backseat, and I quickly pulled it into my lap. Nothing against Bee's ability to protect it, but if we had to bail, It'd be a smart idea to be ready to run. Rule Number Three- Always be Ready to Run.

As we pelted down the road, Sam babbled. It was a bit of a surprise that he managed to reign himself in after a few minutes. Maybe he was adapting to high-stress situations.

Bumblebee's radio whirred to life- " _-haven't seen you- been too long-"_ -then he honked loudly. A line of vehicles were coming in our direction. Leading was a big, blue based, flaming Peterbilt. I grinned.

The four sentient vehicles joined in our conga line as we flew over the ground towards Mission City. As we neared the city limits, we lost Optimus to a Decepticon brawl. The rest of us blazed on. I was vaguely aware that it had been a very long time since I'd gotten any sleep and that my legs were shaking with exhaustion strained energy, but it seemed... extra. Like the fluff in a video game. It's there whether you notice it or not.

In the heart of the city, surrounded by clueless civilians, we finally stopped. Lennox dashed around, passing Radios to each team of men and, after a moment of considering glances, one to us. "Short-wave Radios. The EMPs and electronic interference shouldn't hurt them too much. Use them."

In a matter of seconds the radios were spouting information between the teams and the jets in the city airspace. Everyone was a flurry of activity, the soldiers ushering the civillians out of the area and hopefully to safety- even the Autobots weren't holding still.

Then, with minimal warning, Ironhide and Bumblebee were lifting a massive trailer-truck to provide cover. Missiles rained down, leaving smoke trails through the air between buildings, and even as I yanked Sam back with the arm not cradling the Allspark the ripples of the blasts sent us tumbling. I got airborne for a few seconds before slamming to the ground harshly. The Allspark's corner jabbed into my already bruised ribs and I struggled to my feet, and to breathe.

By the time I was on my feet again, we were surrounded with Chaos. Soldiers were running, firearms aimed at the sky, and Bumblebee-  _Oh god, Bumblebee-_ was slowly crawling from the wreckage of a storefront, minus legs. Sam was crawling in front of him, begging him to be alright, even though his own leg was twisted in a grotesque twine of metal and meat. I felt like crying, for the first time in a long while, in a detached kind of way, like when you get invested in a show only for it to go to shit in one episode.

_You have to move._

So I moved.

Pulling Sam a few inches away from Bee, I shoved the cube into his hands, barking at him to hold it as I dashed off. I'd seen a tow truck as we'd been moving into position, just an alley away-  _There_. Shattering glass and twisting wires was like memories from a past life, then I was backing it up towards Bee. The Allspark received a place of honor on the truck bed while I hauled Sam over to the door so he was out of the way. The chains in the gear boxes were heavier than the hanging chains, and some corner of my mind reminded me that I was sore, but it was a detached sort of pain. I knew logically that I  _should_  hurt, that I should be struggling to bind Bee to the back of the truck, but I couldn't feel it. Around here, hook here, around there, hook that, cinch it tight, adjust, adjust, adjust.

Lennox appeared from nowhere, checking Sam's leg and setting it despite Sam's howl of pain, bracing it with a couple of metal bits and some shreds of fabric he made from an abandoned sweatshirt. Once I had Bumblebee bound to the back of the tow truck, I got him to help me Hoist Sam into the cab. He shouted at me as I tried to give him a crash-course on driving it, babbling and cutting himself off until I shoved him back against the seat.

 _"Damn it, Sam, Listen to me!"_ He shut his mouth with a quiet snap. "We can't leave him here, and you can't walk. Please."

He finally nodded, repeating my instructions on how to drive before I shut the door.

Lennox caught my shoulder before I could even turn and shoved a flare and the Allspark into my hands. "Look, I can't leave my guys back there. Down that way, just a few blocks, there's a tall white building with statues on top. I need you to take this flare, get to the top, and light it. Extraction team will meet you there. Do you understand? Angel, Do you understand?"

I nodded in a few quick jerks. My mind was whirling at a mile a minute- instincts shouting, emotions crying, pain scratching weakly through the sheer adrenaline rush. It was like an out-of-body experience. I knew I should be hurting, I knew I shouldn't actually be able to keep going, I couldn't properly remember when I last slept, or ate, I should have collapsed from sheer exhaustion by now, but I wasn't just trudging along, I was still going full speed.  _Holy shit, the human body is amazing_ , my mind spat at me.  _I've reached that point of tired that I don't have boundaries. I could crush a boulder with my bare hands. I could murder a guy right now. I could jump off a cliff and just get right back up holy shit I am ready to go._

Ironhide gave a shout that pulled me out of my thoughts, and as I clutched the Allspark to my chest, I could have sworn I felt it pulse with energy that sank into my chest and wrapped around my heart.

"Go, Angel!" Ironhide shouted again, turning to me as Ratchet took a few pot-shots at the Decepticons in range. "We'll cover you, Go!"

I took off at a dead sprint down the center of the road, the only part that was a straight, uninterrupted path in the right direction, hearing metal clang and bang behind me. I had only just made it through the doorway of the massive white building when an ear shattering snarl made my heart nearly explode. I held tighter to the cube, imagining another pulse of energy that felt like hope as I took the stairs two at a time, three when I could manage it. My knee quivered twice, but I didn't even stumble.

I did nearly fall through the hole Megatron made when he tore through the floor, but managed to leap to the next stair- blessedly short, straight to the rooftop. I slammed the flare against the wall before I was even completely through the door, aiming the burning end into the air and waving wildly. I was almost at the edge of the building before the Blackhawk lifted up into view, easing in closer, still just barely out of reach as I tried to pass off the cube. I made eye contact with the soldier and silently begged them to just take it, take it and get as far away as they could,  _please._

A flash of light caught my eye. Something large zoomed towards the rooftop, towards me. I screamed as I dropped to the rooftop, curling around the cube like my body would do anything to protect it. Roofing gravel dug into my side. Air whooshed past my head, and the tail of the chopper came so close it brushed the hairs on my arm. I stayed down in terror for a good fifteen seconds after I heard it go down in the street before my limbs unlocked and let me scramble back up to my feet.

I creeped toward the edge, feeling my heart drop to the pavement thirty floors below. Before I could consider anything else, the building shook, and Megatron's horrific cackle rang out loud and clear not far behind me.

"Is it fear or courage that compels you, fleshling?" He crooned. I could hear him shifting closer, moving his feet towards the more stable parts of the roof as he creeped. "Give me the cube, girl, and I may keep you as my pet." The tone sent shivers down my spine almost as much as the words themselves- he was trying to bribe me, leveraging my survival against my success. I stared down at the street and swallowed hard.

"...Your pet, huh? You'd… Keep me fed, watered… give me a safe place to sleep… scratch me behind the ears like a good pet owner?" I turned towards him slowly, keeping my eyes down.

He purred in reply, reaching out a hand like he was trying to coax a wild animal his way. "Of course. I may even keep the boy for you if you're well behaved."

I took an unsteady step away from the edge, trying to work numbers through my head. "A-and you'd… You'd keep me safe, right? Wouldn't let any of the others hurt your pet, would you?"

"They wouldn't dare," he practically whispered as I took another unsteady step, then another. Five steps away from the edge, I lifted my gaze from the ruined rooftop to his face, seeing red eyes darkened in satisfaction.

I glanced down at the cube again, adjusting my grip carefully. I'd gripped it so tightly some of the markings were impressed on the meat of my palm. I lifted my gaze once more. "Fuck you."

I spun back towards the edge, already pushing off the gravel at a full sprint as he roared behind me in sheer rage. I felt time slowing, watched everything with an almost frightening clarity. One foot hit the gravel, pressing into it as it pushed me forward, the other not touching down until the first was already airborne, and just like that I was out of rooftop, and I pushed off the solid edge as hard as I could even though I already knew- I knew I wasn't going to make the jump.

I felt another warm pulse, comforting even as it felt like it was squeezing my heart in a fist, and I held the Allspark tight to my chest as I fell into the ether.


	7. Casualties

Everything felt so s l o w

_you are so brave for one so young_

The a i r was warm even though it had beenc o l d

_everything will be alright_

I was about to d i e but i wasn't scared

_you will not die this day_

I felt so c a l m in that moment

_hold on small one_

Was this how r a i n d r o p s felt when they fell

~oOo~

Everything came together in an instant. Something exploded not far off, gravel was raining down around me, my ears were ringing so loud, I could feel my own heartbeat in my fingers and my toes and my throat-

I hit something hard, but it was much too soon to be hitting the ground, and instead of splattering on the concrete I was cradled, laid on something warm and metallic and emanating  _safesafesafe_. I managed to pry my eyes open as my savior spoke, a deep rumble that was just as familiar as the red and blue paint I could only sort of see.  _Optimus._

He cupped his hand, bringing me in close to his chest where the grill of the Peterbilt sat, and as quickly as I was caught we dropping again- a controlled fall this time, with Optimus digging the fingers of his free hand into the buildings on either side of us and the sidestreet.

He lurched when something hit him hard, and we dropped the last five or six stories in one go. Optimus managed to kick off Megatron, and to somehow dump me on the ground without even making me stumble. "Angel, If I lose this fight, you must unite the cube with the spark in my chest. I will sacrifice myself to keep it from the Decepticons. Promise me." I had barely managed a nod when he turned to look over his shoulder, turning fully even as he warned me, "stay behind me." And then they were at each others throats, literally and figuratively.

The fight was brutal. Metal was bent and rended from their bodies entirely, buildings crumbled and collapsed when they threw the other into the walls. Blades and blasters spun in and out of their arms at a rapid pace, and all the while I clung to the Allspark, holding it to my chest like a baby- or a teddy bear, only one made of metal. Every swing seemed like it would be the last, every hit seemed like it would have to be the death blow, but they kept rising again. Until they didn't.

Optimus was sprawled on his back, struggling to force himself back into the fight, but Megatron was already moving, crawling from his crater in the street and snarling incoherent words. Optimus yelled to me- he wanted me to do it, sacrifice the cube, sacrifice him- but we didn't stand a chance with him gone, I couldn't- and the cube, they needed the cube- Cybertron-

I felt another strange pulse in my chest, the ones I was starting to think weren't as imagined as I first thought, and I got a thought-  _if it will kill Optimus, it will kill Megatron too-_ but it would still destroy the Allspark-  _the allspark cannot be destroyed, it is energy- everything will be alright-_

I ran towards the crawling maniac before I could think too hard about exactly what I was about to do. His frame, even on his hands and knees, still towered over me, and I wasn't even sure if I could reach his spark from the ground, but his arms half collapsed, and with him on his elbows I was just tall enough. I thrust the Allspark into the air, only inches from his chest, and the cube bust into light and heat and pain and  _it will be alright everything will be alright_

There was barely a sliver of the cube left when he lurched backwards and it was ripped from my grasp, I was vaguely aware of him clawing at his chest as I stumbled back, but I couldn't think clearly it was all pain, pain and burning and death and loss and a sorrow so deep it felt like it would swallow me whole and pain pain pain in my hips in my hands in my head everywhere everything hurt and I'd destroyed their only hope for Cybertron I'd killed their planet I'd killed them  _gods what had I done?_

The loud, heavy thud behind me was lost to the splatter of bile on the ruined pavement. I heaved until nothing was left and it felt like my stomach and my lungs and everything else in my guts was trying to squeeze out my mouth and slowly sat back on my heels. Belatedly, I lifted my hands off the dirt and gravel that used to be Main Street and noted the heels of my palms were an angry, wet-looking red, now covered in debris.

The part of me still horrified by what I'd done hoped it would get infected.

I heard Optimus approach from behind me and tried to wipe my mouth on the tattered sleeve of my jacket. It probably smeared dirt everywhere rather than actually help with how I looked. "Angel, I owe you my life. We are in your debt."

"Don't say that." My voice shook so badly, it nearly tipped me face-first into memories of court dates and gunshot wounds and hit-and-runs. "The Allspark Is gone, you… you can't fix Cybertron now. Because I had to kill him."

"Had Megatron succeeded, he would have done far worse. We may have lost the Allspark, but Cybertron has been lost to us for a very long time. Without their leader, the Decepticons will scatter. You have saved many more lives than you have taken. You gave us aide when you had every reason to leave. You saved me, and you have saved all of these brave warriors from the future Megatron had planned. Do not play yourself as only your shortcomings when there is so much more to what you have done."

I sniffled, wincing at the sting of bile on raw nerves and the throbbing in my skull. "You make me sound like some great hero."

I managed to lift my head as the tow truck pulled up close to the scene, Sam swinging down from the cab and nearly collapsing if not for a rescue by one of the soldiers, who limped him in our direction. I wobbled to my feet and managed to hold steady as he got close enough to pull me into a hug. The only thing keeping me from melting into it was the knowledge that if either of us didn't pull our weight we were both going down, and we probably wouldn't get back up.

"God, Angel, I thought you were gonna die." He half breathed into my hair.

I gave a broken little laugh.  _I've been through worse,_  I meant to say, a bit of sass to lighten the mood, but instead out spilled "So did I."

Ironhide and Ratchet thumped into my view over Sam's shoulder, Jazz' barely whole body supported carefully by the two of them. Gods, he looked so small. "Prime, we need somewhere to stabilize him." The tiny tiny bot's eyes flickered with light, and he gave off a strange digitized noise, feebly waving his hand in dismissal.

Optimus looked, for just a brief moment, beyond pain and frustration. I swallowed. "There... I think there was a semi and trailer… a block down, and to the right. I don't know how clean you need it for operations, but… it should be big enough, and when we're told where to go from here it'll be safer than trying to move him again." I pointed off down the road, and the larger bots adjusted their holds until Jazz was fully supported by Ironhide and Ratchet was safe to run off to retrieve the flatbed for his makeshift operating table.

Optimus flashed me a look of gratitude for so much more than knowing my surroundings and I turned to hide my face in Sam's shoulder, returning his hug with a vague mockery of one. I was very quickly feeling exhausted and much more aware of the throbbing ache in my bones the longer we stood still, and when the two of us gave a dangerous wobble a couple of soldiers hurried over to help support us both.

"We have lost much today. We almost lost a good friend. But we have gained new ones. Thank you. All of you. You honor us with your bravery."

Bumblebee made a quiet whirring a few steps off to our right, then- "Permission to speak, Sir?"

The Prime's face twisted into a smile. "Permission granted, old friend."

Sam jerked around to stare at Bee in awe, even as he continued, "I wish to stay with them."

"If that is their choice."

Sam looked down at me, and I gave him an expectant look. He smiled. "Yeah."

"Hell yes," I added.

The camaro whirred contentedly behind us. Ratchet returned not even two full minutes after he left, flatbed in tow, and he and Ironhide started working on repairs. Optimus, after a very short discussion with Lennox- who i belatedly noticed was one of the two that had rushed over to keep Sam and I upright, along with Epps- took a half-request-half-order from Ratchet and left to scrounge up parts to replace what couldn't be patched on Jazz. I wasn't entirely aware of what had been done in between, but the next time I could think clearly, Sam and I had been herded into a mostly unharmed store, close to the intersection where Megatron's corpse lay and where Jazz was slowly but surely being pulled back from the brink. Someone had scrounged up blankets that might have actually just been thrown on a pile of clothes in a makeshift bed and we were both sprawled on it, a thin sheet tossed half-heartedly over our torsos. I was settled on my right side, the only way I had been able to reliably stay comfortable since I'd been hit some three years back, with Sam beside me on his back with his broken leg propped up on a box to keep it from being nudged while we waited. Despite it barely being sundown, I was exhausted. I had, of course, been up and running for almost forty-eight hours now.

We hadn't really said anything about it, but once we'd settled in, my head had found the crook of his neck and my legs had tangled with his good one and his arm was wrapped loosely around me, a hand sitting on my hip. As his breathing evened out, I slowly lifted myself up on an elbow to look at him. It protested the effort with another flare of burning, aching pain. I tried to ignore it. Maybe part of me expected him to have spontaneously turned into someone else, as dreams are wont to do, or I expected him to stare back and say some really cliched movie line. He looked peaceful, though, face relaxed, eyes closed lightly, despite the mess of dirt and the thin, shallow cuts that left flaky streaks of blood. He looked good.

My free hand came up and lightly traced over his cheekbone, then followed the line of a cut down to his jaw and from there to his chin. His eyes opened tiredly, and after a moment he smiled. "So how's that for a date, Angel? Cars that turn into intelligent robots, explosions, can't say you've done that before."

I smiled back, rubbing his jaw with my thumb. "It was definitely original." I rubbed his chin a bit longer, but when he didn't move to speak, I added quietly, "Everything that happened… Whatever comes next… I just want you to know. I'm. I'm glad I got in that car with you." His smile twitched ever-so-slightly wider, and after a moment to think 'what the hell,' I leaned down and kissed him. Very lightly, and only for a couple of seconds because even sore and exhausted I knew I smelled awful and my mouth would taste like vomit, and he didn't try to take control or push it, just pressed his lips back gently and gave a smile that showed his teeth when I pulled away to settle back against his side. His hand held a little tighter to my hip, and I could hear the soldiers still yelling to each other over short distances as they swept the city a few blocks at a time looking for civilians and soldiers, alive and dead, and moving anyone in need of medical attention to their triage station a couple blocks away where they wouldn't see more of the autobots than they had to before the choppers and ground transports could get them out of the city. The short range radio handheld that had been given to Sam and I squawked status updates and sitreps every minute or so, volume turned down so the static wasn't too bothersome and the orders were only barely heard.

I slept better than I had memory of doing in almost a full year, at least for a few hours, and somewhere inside, I felt like things really were going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the 'official' end of the fic. I've got ideas to continue it through the series and fill in some empty space in between, but I won't promise them because my muse and motivation and ability to word are fickle beasts and hard to get lined up. Thanks for getting this far, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.


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